I should've died that night! Every time I even think about that night, a wave regret washes over me as I too should be dead. It wasn't fair that I got to live and not her; each day is like torture to me. The demon had cut me from her womb and fed me it's demon blood helping me to survive. I have the blood of that thing which killed my mother coursing through my veins and it kills me. I haven't seen her beautiful face, heard her sweet voice or felt her soft hands on my skin, and would image what her presence might feel like. That demon had stripped away my mother and a potentially normal life I would've lived, but instead I was cursed to see the true dangers in society.
I don't know if I'm a constant reminder of my mother's death and that is why my father had tossed me to the side or for some other reason. My father hasn't even had the gratitude to show me a photo of mother or at least described what her personality
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My hair pulses in the wind and the cool soft air circulates around my head. I was heading towards Hibbing, Minnesota where missing people reports had suddenly spiked. It was going to be around an 8 and a half hours drive. I've always drove as to flying, it is too much of a hassle and I doubt they will let someone carry any weapons of any sort on board. Taking one of my hands off the wheel I follow my scar along my eye. I was always self conscious about it, as it was the most confronting scar I've got as many scars canvass my back and run down my arm. Most of them have faded away, but can still be noticed. In the fire that my mother and I were caught up in, it had permanently burnt off my finger prints, leaving scars at my fingertips. Thinking about it my birth was never recorded, my finger prints had never existed and my blood had been manipulated and contaminated. Geez... I hate long drives by myself, I always go into a hole sinking deeper and deeper thinking about confronting
I wait at the door. I put on my solemn, grim face, I cannot let these children see me as a soft women. I am anything but that, well I guess I am, but we all need to hide our inner emotions some how. My useless husband, Hans, mumbles, “I see the car”. We step outside, most people think Hans and I are crazy for opening our home to these two children, but every little bit of money that we can earn helps. Plus, they can help with the laundry, I think and smile.
A time when I felt really sad was last christmas. It was christmas eve morning, and my mom got a call, I looked at her and I knew something was wrong, I was so scared to see what she was gonna say, did someone die, what happened? I didn't know, she was on the phone for about 15 minutes, it was driving me nuts, I didn't know who she was talking about or talking to, she just kept say “oh my gosh”, and “really”. She finally got off the phone, she sat there in shock for a few seconds, I didn't want to sound pushy or rude, but I wanted to know what was going on. She finally started talking, she looked at my dad, and started talking. I remember her words like it was yesterday. “Uncle Dave went to the hospital last night, mom said something in his
As the 99 Toyota Tacoma plays Hank William Jr’s “Family Tradition” while pulling the hill to a “family friends” house, I can’t help but wonder how things have gotten to this point. He is no friend of mine, in fact, I’ve never seen his face or spoke to him. Even though the two of us have never exchanged words I have a pure hatred for this man, he’s partially the reason my life isn’t the same, the reason my father isn’t himself. We pull into the house’s driveway as I’m ordered to “Sit in the truck.”. My father walks up the steps softly and quickly, does a sequence of knocks almost as if he’s sending a telegraph message through the door to let this “friend” know that he is there to start working. This man never comes to the door, but instead
Be stock in life and can figure out the problem! Time is all about spend time with the people with without live in the past. After his dad recently pass away, everything Emely did was living in that house just to remember her Dad, and don’t show people that she is living with her dad in the same bed just to remember him as a good thing living in the past time.
I spent most of the morning stuck in my thoughts, why was I not grieving my parent's death? Why had I never noticed I was supernatural? Dominating most of my thoughts, did I have feelings for Jordan, my brother's best friend?
Death and dying is a natural and unavoidable process that all living creatures will experience at some point in life, whether it is one’s own person death or the death of a close friend or family member. Along with the experience of death comes the process of grieving which is the dealing and coping with the loss of the loved one. Any living thing can grieve and relate to a loss, even children (Shortle, Young, & Williams, 1993). “Childhood grief and mourning of family and friends may have immediate and long-lasting consequences including depression, anxiety, social withdrawal, behavioral disturbances, and school underachievement” (Kaufman & Kaufman, 2006, p. 61). American children today grow up in cultures that attempt to avoid grief and
The short story starts by explaining the fantasy land of having every boyfriend one’s ever had and trapping them in a village while they are also trapped on the outside of the village. So, the author explains how the person is waiting on the border of this village, watching these boyfriends live together. Doss then explains the boyfriends everyday task together like, riding motorcycles, getting drunk, and exercising. After understanding the concept of this village, the audience is introduced with the problem of the continuously growing population and how the area is overflowing with these men. Doss explains this in good imagery by saying how the men are sleeping on floors and in bathtubs. As he goes on explaining where all the boyfriends sleeps,
In the veldt I think The parents are to blame for their death because they brought all the technology into the house and the kids were very addicted to it. The author Ray Bradbury is saying don't use technology too much. Are it can mess with your mind. Before the kids killed their parents, the parents were saying that they will get rid of the nursery. The dad said that the kids would get mad and that shows the kids over ruled the parents.
It has been me and my mom for about thirteen years now. She loves to do puzzles and play board games with me, and we even have our very own songs that we both love. They are I'm Yours by Jason Mraz, Daughters by John Mayer, and we both love Meghan Trainor. It's funny because sometimes we even listen to Jayson’s fire mixtape when we're feeling crazy. Anyway we will know that no matter what happens to either one of us we will always know that we will be there for each other. My father usually comes to mind while talking to my mom, but she never really talked about him. Was she nervous to see if I could handle the truth? Would I be devastated about the horrifying man that should be my father? During that time I would never know.
Jackie couldn't stop tossing and turning. She was dreaming, the same dream she had every night for the past year. Every time she would lay down in bed, she knew it would happen. That didn’t stop it from being horrific and have her wake up out of breath and some nights, screaming. In her dream she could see the smoke rise in the air and fan out over ceiling and form a blanket of death, next, she heard the screams. They were the worst part of her dream, they echoed in her ears, pleading her to help, to try to move. Instead she stood frozen in front of her parent’s room. She could see the flames start lick the bottom of the door. The smoke poured out the newly burned holes and filled the hallway. The screams stopped. She knew what that meant. This was the 365th dream, the 365th time she witnessed her parent’s burn to death in front of her. One year of reliving the events of
I first realized my parents mortality when I was in the fifth grade. I was in the basement of my house, watching TV, when I heard a frantic call from my father telling my sister to call 911. My mother had been taking a shower, but she passed out and fell to the ground. My father heard her fall and rushed into the bathroom to investigate, and found her lying on the shower floor. I ran up the stairs in a hysterical panic, while my sister was on the phone calling an ambulance. Every time my mother would open her eyes they would instantly roll to the back of her head. We got my mother into bed and I went to the kitchen to get water and we forced her to drink it. Pretty soon, she came to, and we canceled the ambulance. We huddled in with my mother
When I got the phone call that my dad was dead I could not believe it. I became overcome with denial “No, not my dad, he wouldn’t leave me!”. I called his phone, hoping with all of my soul that he would answer the phone like he always did, greeting me with a joke of some sort. This was not the case, so I broke down. It felt like my heart was ripped out of my body and stomped on. I have always been a daddy's girl so at first I did not know how I was supposed to go on. It had always been ‘Roland and Hannah’ for anything: partners for games at home, driving together, and many other things. He was my biggest teacher and my other half. I quickly became overcome with denial “No, not my dad, he wouldn’t leave me! He knows how much I need him!”.
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in her room , watching tv. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.
When I was young my mother and my father both had very different opinions on how you should raise a child. And since my father was the one paying the bills and bringing home the paychecks for a few years, I didn’t really get to see him much because he worked all day. So my mother was the one who raised me for the most part. At the time she would spoil me like crazy. If I asked for something the answer would always be yes, and if I didn’t get my way I would start having a fit until she finally caved in. You could’ve called me a crybaby, go ahead I would’ve said the same thing. Because I was. My father’s best friend who had two twins both the same age as me invited me, my father and my mother over to there place for an easter egg hunt easter morning. During the easter egg hunt, me and my friend both turned a corner at the same time. He saw an egg and as he was going to grab it, I saw it and tried to get it also. He got there before me and I started to have a fit right there and then. I could remember my mother rushing up to see what’s wrong. After I told her what had happened she got me to stop crying and gave me extra candy. My dad knew that by her raising me like this I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere in life without someone being there whenever something went wrong, so he told her to take the candy back and to tell me to get over it and that not everything in life will be fair. She took that the wrong way and got mad at my dad for “not being a good parent” because didn’t