Being Taken Away Essay

To this day I still have nightmares about this, I wake up screaming, crying, and shaking but I remember I’m safe and it's just part of the past. You would think that I would be scared of snow plows but I'm not, I've been in them since with my Papa as he drives them. This has scarred me for life as I thought I was going to lose

The journey began, the first state we rode through was Alabama, I couldn’t see much since it was night time. All I could see was the clear night sky. No stars were shining that night. The only lights I could see were street lights, building lights, and other cars. Looking around inside the car, everyone was asleep except for my uncle since he was the one driving. I must have been asleep the whole 4 hours and 46-minute car ride through Mississippi because I don’t remember anything, same with Louisiana. Finally, when we got to Texas all I wanted to do was get out of the car, so luckily, we stopped by to eat at Cici’s. My aunt said, “To enjoy this last meal since it was the last fast food, that we would be having for a while.” After we ate, it took us about 5-hours to get to Matamoros, Mexico. That was where we had to drive through the border to get into Mexico. Once we got into Mexico, there were lines of cars everywhere from people trying to enter and leave at the same time. The lines were slowly moving, like a turtle, inch by inch. There

There have been several life altering events in my life, but one that stands out is when I went with my parents to pick up my brother from school. It was a normal trip until we got back on the interstate after getting gas. Traffic came to an abrupt halt, and heads turned to see the cause. First we saw a motorcycle helmet laying on the side of the road. The plastic panel was broken, and the helmet itself was nearly in two. No less than half a mile up the road, you see an ambulance, a police car, and a firetruck all blocking off a small square. While driving by, we saw a pink skeet strewn over something on the side of the road. Upon closer inspection, I saw a bloodied hand and a large pool of blood sticking out from under the sheet. At that time I was 15, and I had just passed my driving permit exam. Similarly to Duncan, that event has stayed with me ever sense, and when I see someone on the interstate on a motorcycle, thats what I am reminded of. After an event so traumatic, you would assume the news would say something. After all, this person was someone’s child, maybe someone’s parent. I never saw anything to speak of this

There is one loss in my life that affected many aspects of my life for many years, the divorce of my parents. I was in barley entering the first grade and the tender age of five, soon to turn six, when my parents spent their last night as a married couple. I do not have many memories of my parents as a couple but I do remember the day my Daddy left. He was a policeman and I watched as his cruiser drove away from our family home. I remember my mom crying and not being willing to console me or explain to me what was happening. All I knew is there was a fight, my dad left, it seemed different than other times when he left, and my mom was crying. Everything about my life changed in the blink of a five year old’s eyes which is what makes this loss so significant in my life.

At three am in the morning men came into our house. They told us, we had to do as they said. My father and oldest brother refused to abide by these rules and tried to stop these men. Thus, my father and eldest brother were shot and killed. My mother, sister, and I were made to get in the back of a truck while, my other brother was loaded into another. These men had power and control over us and there was nothing we could do to change that without being killed. I would never see my father, or two brothers again after that night. Thus, my mother, sister, and I were sent to a concentration

We lived in the ghettos for all of 2 weeks before we were taken to a camp. My family was split up so my mother, my sister, and I were together and my Father was alone. The work camps were terrible they forced us into hard labor my mother and I knew how to sew so we were put into a work group to sew up soldiers uniforms. I ber one day my mother pricked her finger and got blood on one of the uniforms she was beaten by an S.S officer and yelled at continually. If I ever made a mistake or did something wrong my mother would take the beating for me. I objected every time but she would never let anything happen to me. My older sister was not good at sewing but luckily was put near us she helped cook for everyone in the camp. I will always remember the day of the selection my mother was not chosen but I was my mother tried to talk me into believing that getting picked this time was good and that we needed to say goodbye because she was leaving. I knew the truth though. The next day an officer called out the names of the chosen people my name was called. We were told we were going to take a shower. When they stopped us we were in a big room I did not see any shower heads “Gas chamber” I heard someone mumble. I knew my last breath was going to be soon. All at once gaas entered the room coughing came from all around. I said my last goodbye and said a silent Kaddish for myself and the people I was with. I then took my final breath while many

Started off with me having to move back to Indiana. First, my mom was nowhere to be found, so I wasn’t able to say good bye and that I loved her. I really wanted to be able to hug her one last time. She did the same thing when I was a kid. It made me feel unwanted all over again, so I got on the bus with nothing but 3 bags and no money.

When I was nine years old my father went to prison. Since he was a single parent, I was forced to relocate to Washington State to live with my grandparents. Moving to Washington was one of the worst things that I thought could happen at the time, even though it ended up strengthening me as a person. I was forced to leave my friends, school, father and all of my other family members. I was taken from everything I knew and was left very confused and conflicted.

As a kid I only got to see my dad on the weekends and those were the best days I had, I never understood why I couldn't live with my father full time because my mom never lived a stable life. My mother wasn’t as bad as it seems, she always made sure we had food and somewhere to stay even if it wasn't the greatest, even living with my mom my dad still paid for almost everything I had. When I was about 8 years old I lived in Mccomb and it was my dads weekend and I was so excited to get off of school and go see him, When I got home I was shocked to find everything packed up and my mom told me to get in the car, I was so upset to find out that me, my two brother, and her and her boyfriend were off to Florida. The whole trip to Florida I balled my eyes out and all I remember was that I kept saying that I wanted to live with my dad and that I hated my mom, I wondered how she could just up and leave without telling my

My mom and I ran out to see what all the noise was. We see soldiers. Taking people and dragging them aggressively by the arm. My mind was filled with so many questions that no one could answer. Why are they taking these people? Where are they taking these people? Who are these people taking them? What are they going to do with them? Am I next? Are we next? The lost could go on and on. My mom and I went back inside and locked the doors. But the soldiers broke right through our door. At that moment I had a feeling It wasn’t going to be easy from here and on. I was wondering where my dad was. He had left off to work but I didn't know what they would do to him since he wasn’t with us. But back then I had no idea that morning of January 30th would be the last time I saw my dad. It was the last time. We were then told to pack our stuff and that we only had 10 minutes to do so, but it felt more like 5 mins. I helped my little brothers pack their stuff so I really didn’t have time to pack mine. The soldiers put us on a train along with the others, they didn’t say where they were taking us. I held my smaller brothers tight in my hands. I didn’t know what was going to happen to us, or where they were taking

In Eagle River, Wisconsin June of 2006 my parents and I made the 30 minute drive from my brothers camp, Kawaga, to mine, Chippewa. I was seven years old sitting in the back seat of this car thinking about how my brother, Max, loves his camp so I would too. However, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. We arrived and my parents stopped the car to take a picture of me in front of the big red rustic sign “Chippewa Ranch Camp” it said. As we drove down the long dirt driveway it finally hit me that I was about to get out of this car and not see my parents for an entire month. I couldn’t even spend the night out I would call them to pick me up at midnight from my friends homes, how in the world was I going to survive four whole weeks of

The next day, my family piled into the car and began our road trip, driving from Mississippi to San Diego which was about a two week trip. All five of us, were in the car, my siblings were the ages of 4 and 6, and I was 11, I didn’t get along with my siblings, and had no intent to. The whole drive I didn’t want to talk to anyone or show any signs of emotion. I knew that I was going to make friends eventually, but I didn’t know how I was going to, considering I didn’t really know who I was, exactly what I liked or how to talk to

After days of being in that horrible box, it was finally opened, my hope had come true…. Or so i thought. We move further down below the deck and to my disappointment it got a lot worse. We were chained to these wood plains and had to lay down right next to each other (every inch of my body touching someone else's). It was so uncomfortable, but that wasn’t even the worst part…. It smelled horrible, liking taking everything in the world that smells bad and mixing it up together. This was because many had vomit due to the poor conditions not only that but you had to pee right there and then. Also, since we were in the sea… everyone one was getting toss around like toys which cause many to be sea-sick. All we can do now is pray … well not even that because all our energy was gone. We didn't have energy because we didn’t get fed and when we did it was the most awful rice and beans that look so nasty it makes you want to gag. I was tired and shut my eyes for a bit… when i opened them i noticed my friend was died, it made me cry so much; but i shortly stop because a crew member unchained me and took me out of the room. I was escorted to a room filled with white men they all used me like a toy and then made me witness a man getting hit with a whip on the back. Me not being the smartest decide to go and try to help but end up getting hit myself which hurt really bad. They would do dreadful

When I was twelve years old I was sexually assaulted in North Hollywood in the back alley of a liquor store by a complete stranger. Many details and aspects of this story are blurry in my memory. According to psychologists this memory loss is a type of psychogenic amnesia that occurs as a result of the body attempting to cope with stress to survive. This causes certain stressful events to be blocked; also known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) (American Psychiatric Association, 1980). The day was October 15th of the year 2009. My family and I were staying at my aunt’s house in North Hollywood in honor of my mother’s birthday which was the following day. For some odd reason my family and I cannot eat cake without a glass of milk. There was not enough milk for everyone at the time, so I was sent to buy a gallon of milk at the liquor store. Little did I know that a gallon of milk would lead to a moment that would change my

As a child I grew up in a home with my two parents and two older sisters. I met most developmental milestones at the appropriate age, and I did not have any major childhood illnesses. One of the earliest memories that I can recall was at age 3 or 4. I don’t recall the exact age and I haven’t asked my mother about the event, but I know it was at least before I was school age. I recall that my mother and grandmother were with me and we were standing on the side of a county road near a small bridge. There were police cars and an ambulance parked nearby with their lights flashing. My mother and grandmother were crying hysterically and this was very upsetting to me because I don’t think I had ever saw them cry like that before. The reason that they were crying was that a close friend of my grandmother had drove off the bridge in their