There I was running around and playing while everyone grieved. I had no knowledge of what we were gathered for, all I knew was that it was fun to pretend I was Alice in wonderland. The halls and walls lined up with flowers and flowered ornaments all throughout the house. The house wasn’t as dull as it would usually be, it was alive with colors now. My little black shoes shiny and cute with a big black bow right in the center, and my sparkly fluffy dress stood out from all the others. This vivid yet faint memory of what I thought was a family reunion was really my grandmother’s wake. My mother’s eyes swollen and red from all her crying, I thought if she would only eat something maybe she wouldn’t feel like crying so much. I remember standing …show more content…
I grew up very quickly, since I was the baby of the family and my siblings were twenty years apart I was always around grownups and rarely any kids, at least not my age kids. The only kids around me were my cousins who were around twelve years old or more. So, there I was playing around in a time of grievance for the loss of my grandma. I ran and hid behind one of the largest flowered ornaments I had ever seen. It must have been at least seven feet tall or bigger, but it was perfect for a princess throne, It was just right for me. My grandmother must have been very popular around her town because I remember crowds of people. There were so many people I they had placed chairs al on the outside of the house and even brought a truck full of tables so that people can eat all the food my aunts were making in the kitchen. I remember picking at all the different kinds of sweet bread and sweet dished they had. The smell of cinnamon and flowers filled the air throughout the house. My mom was so busy with all the people that kept walking up to her and making her cry more that she had no time to watch or control how much sweets I was eating. It was a free for
I looked around at everyone in the room and saw the sorrow in their eyes. My eyes first fell on my grandmother, usually the beacon of strength in our family. My grandmother looked as if she had been crying for a very long period of time. Her face looked more wrinkled than before underneath the wild, white hair atop her head. The face of this once youthful person now looked like a grape that had been dried in the sun to become a raisin. Her hair looked like it had not been brushed since the previous day as if created from high wispy clouds on a bright sunny day.
We were traveling thought all the beautiful places and cities in the country. During our vacation, one day we stopped at a restaurant in a small town. As we were eating, my 16-year-old cousin said to me hurry up, finish your meal and we’ll go play outside. I was a little boy just turned six years. I was excited to go play outside with my cousin, so I was the first one to finish with my meal.
Tears streaming down my face, I kept walking ahead wherever my small, roughed up feet would take me unaware of the consequences of doing so. I felt tears roll off of my cheeks slowly, and then all at once. My shirt was wet and cold because of the salt filled tears, my nose was runny and I used my Winnie the Pooh hanky to wipe the snot away. Within seconds, my nose felt irritated despite the soft, microfiber of the handkerchief and my hands were tired. My vision became really cloudy and I could barely see where I was going. At this point, I had lost all hope and my heart felt heavy, pushing me down with every hurtful step I took. I wanted to sit down and wait for my parents to come to me themselves, so I did. I sat down next to the gate to one of the other rides and waited for what I thought was years of time. I remember getting strange looks from people, as they walked by and I kept wondering why. The ground I was sitting on was unwelcoming, rough, and littered. My pants would definitely need to take a spin in the laundry. Mom wouldn’t be too happy about this, not just the fact that my parents had forgotten me and left me to venture out into the world solitary but also the fact that my clothes were dirty and I had generally made a mess of
The next day I woke up without a worry on my mind. I fought with my siblings about who got to eat the last powdered sugar donut. Being the youngest, I obviously lost. As soon as we were done with breakfast, my cousins and I ran over to the lake to go for a quick swim. When we got back I heard that we were going to go for a ride through the country side.
As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……
Who I think I am? I’m not exactly sure who I think I am or how to describe who I think I am. I tend to act differently around certain people. Constantly changing to try to seek approval. Constantly in fear of accidentally doing something wrong; that I might say something wrong and all my friends will abandon me or leave me for someone better. I think this fear came from when my best friend was taken from me. I had known her since preschool, but she had met another girl and she stopped talking to me completely. I’m in constant fear that this will happen to me again, so I struggle to be accepted. I don’t want to be forgotten again.
...nts' house. She spent many hours with me making cookies and teaming up on my brother. I told her all my secrets and dreams. When I had to go back home, she would always write me letters. They were actually written by my grandpa. My mom tried to read them to me, but I wouldn't let her. However, I didn't know how to read, so I finally had to give in and let her read them to me.
On that fateful day in March, I was a couple months shy of my third birthday. My family and I lived in New Mexico at the time and were renting a house with an outdoor in-ground pool. The day was beautiful. I was outside with my oldest sister Rachel and my father. Rachel was diligently reading curled up on a bench that sat against the house, and my father was mowing the backyard. My mother and my other sister were in the house. Off to one side of the house there was a group of large bushes. I was playing over there with one of her large cooking pots, off in my own little world. At one point while amusing and en...
My family and I lived in the mountains above Chico, in a place called Concow. My father had built a cabin for my mother and I along with my two younger brothers, but at that time we were living in a school bus. It was the middle of the night when I had gotten up out of bed to go to the restroom, after I walked out I turned and being the small five year old I was I was greatly confused at
First, Alice in Wonderland is a story about a girl that dreams everyday in a place called Wonderland with magical and mysterious creatures. One day she goes to a house party/proposal for herself and sees a white bunny in the distance looking and running away from her. She excuses herself and follows the rabbit out into the woods and finds a tree stump where the rabbit had went into. She took a step too far near the stump and accidently falling into the hole putting her in Wonderland. She finds herself in a room and sees two things a bottle and a piece of cake. The bottle makes her grow smaller and the cake makes her grow bigger. She uses those two things to get out of the room and into wonderland where she finds people that know her already and she thinks its a dream, but it’s
Lewis Carroll's use of puns and riddles in Alice in Wonderland help set the theme and tone. He uses word play in the book to show a world of warped reality and massive confusion. He uses such play on words to reveal the underlying theme of growing up', but with such an unusual setting and ridiculous characters, there is need for some deep analyzing to show this theme. The book contains many examples of assonance and alliteration to add humor. Carroll also adds strange diction and extraordinary syntax to support the theme.
There was no lawn, but there were four flower planters. The house was painted all white, with the exception of the front door that was painted light green. My grandfather was still young, strong, and full of life, he always had time to play with his grandchildren. Every Sunday he would take us to the park, would buy us ice cream, and take us to Sunday mass. On the day when this picture was taken, we were celebrating my 10th birthday, and I was dancing with my grandfather. I cannot remember the song, but I do remember what he told me while dancing slowly. He said “My little girl” how he used to call me,” in five years you won’t be a little girl, you will become a young lady.” At that moment I could not understand what he meant, but in my mind I was saying “grandpa I will always be your little girl.” While dancing, he made me a promise, “My little girl on your 15th birthday, I will dance the first song with you.” Who would know that he was going to die on my 15th birthday year, he passed away on June 21th, 1987 on Father’s Day. He left me with so many beautiful memories, but the most important was my first dance on my 10th birthday. On the night before my 15th birthday, I went to bed around 10 p.m. I was feeling depressed, because I was only thinking of the promise that my grandfather had made in the past. A promise that in my mind was not going to
“Why don’t you use your locker? You’re going to have back problems before you even graduate”. These are words that are repeated to me daily, almost like clockwork. I carry my twenty-pound backpack, full of papers upon papers from my AP classes. The middle pouch of my backpack houses my book in which I get lost to distract me from my unrelenting stress. The top pouch holds several erasers, foreshadowing the mistakes I will make - and extra lead, to combat and mend these mistakes. Thick, wordy textbooks full of knowledge that has yet to become engraved in my brain, dig the straps of my backpack into my shoulders. This feeling, ironically enough, gives me relief - my potential and future success reside in my folders and on the pages of my notebooks.
During my freshman year of college, I had met one of my best friends, who go by name Jill. (She lives in New Jersey and while I live in Pennsylvania) I found it to be strange that sometimes, it feels like we have grown up with one another but in reality we have only one another for four years and I couldn’t be more thankful. I can remember when we met at school as if it was yesterday.
It was December 4, 2014 and it was snowing outside. I was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework. All my family was downstairs, so I was all alone. My English teacher told us to write a paper about how I am different from my classmates. I was thinking about what in my life makes me different and slowly my whole life was playing like a movie in my head. The first memory that popped into my head was my fourth birthday party. It was supposed to be the best birthday ever. My dad was going to come. It was February 24, 2002 at my birthday party. There were so many people there, but I was so focused on my dad coming, no one else seemed to matter. My cake was pink and yellow with a bicycle on it. I had a red and blue inflatable that kids were