My Life - Original Writing Essay

My Life - Original Writing Essay

Length: 938 words (2.7 double-spaced pages)

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Ugh! The flashing digital clock on the wall is causing a constant throbbing in my head and the overhead TV plays the same ad it has done for hours on end. I’m really starting to get sick of this. And for what? So Mum can have a little brother for me? Why would I want that? Life has been perfectly fine as an only child and there is nothing that a baby brother could do to improve it.
I can already smell the mess he is making in his nappy. I can feel the squelching brown muck on my fingertips as I change that diaper and imagine the putrid taste of his food as he forces it down my throat. How cute. Mum and Dad will look on proudly at how well we are getting along while inside I will be absolutely revolted.
I look over at Dad’s tense, pacing figure. There are creases all over his face and his fingers are ploughing the sweaty field that used to be his hair. He is trapped in his own thought as he walks, his only contact with the rest of the room is his frequent checking of that wretched clock flashing on the wall, 4:00, 4:01, 4:02… I, too, am focused on the clock, though I doubt for the same reasons as Dad. All I think about is the time I’m wasting sitting here, and all the better things I could be doing.
Sitting across from me, Grandma’s ancient, arthritic fingers hold a golden ballpoint, scribbling another solution into her cryptic. How she could still be working at it after all this time is beyond me. Her curly grey strands of hair bob up and down as she looks to the ceiling, gnawing the end of her pen for the next answer. Noises come from her side as Grandpa’s snoring becomes significantly audible. His mouth billowing as he exhales, revealing his aging pair of dentures. He opens his mouth so wide, I’m afraid they might come l...


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...n size. His raven strands of hair are glued to his head and his legs are flailing about. He must have plenty of energy after being stuck lying in a ball for almost a year.
“Would you like to hold him?”
Blankly nodding, I take the child into my arms and have a glimpse into his deep, brown eyes before he curls himself into my supporting chest. I only realise he was crying now that the noise has subsided and all eyes are focused on my chest as I rock gently side to side. I feel wet, fresh baby drool soothingly crawl down my shirt and notice his deepened breathing as his mind drifts off to sleep.
Everyone is beaming at this new creation, embodied in flesh; forgetting about me entirely. However, I’m not jealous, for now I understand. I shall not be sitting alone by the eucalypt as I feared, for I, too, shall be with my parents, tending to this glorious new creation.

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