Boy Of The Car - Original Writing

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

There was a thunderous crash, and I instinctively held on to the seat in front of me and closed my eyes. I felt the crash in my bones as I slid to the aisle and the bus split from the sign. The noise of another women, screaming as she feared death, but nothing compared to me, dying before seeing my dear, dear Lily. Tires screeched, and howls of pain dominated my ears, the prickly glass shards fell over me. In just a few seconds it was all over and everything was still. I dared not to open my eyes, my heart threatening to

I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.

In a moment of insanity, in a single second, in a single mistake, a decision that you make in a moment could all change the course of the next few months of your life. I was in my car, my tears fogging up the window of my mom’s blue Honda Pilot, the tension clogging up the air. I can feel my sweat and tears dripping down my face, more tears than I have had in awhile. It feels different. I began to wonder why the tears came down this much. The only thing I could hear was the faint radio, which my mom had turned down, my face is pressed against that window looking into the distance, hoping for a miracle. I could see the sadness of my mom’s eyes looking back at me every few seconds. Those seconds ticking into minutes, all of them in which

They swarmed around me. The tears felt like fire. I heard worried, faint murmurs. “she's not going to make it”, and they're reassuring my crying, helpless parents, “she's going to be alright”. Even though I was so young, I thought that this was it. The fear. The pain. The sorrow. The memories still haunt me to this day.

He ran into the house screaming for my mother with tears flowing down his eyes. That was the first time I saw my dad cry. He had no visible injuries, so what was wrong? My mind was so fixated on that question that I didn’t even notice my parents leaving until my mom shouted, “I’m taking your dad to the hospital!” Then the door closed. I was alone, in the middle of the night unable to fathom what could’ve possibly happened to send him to the ER. Hours passed without me receiving a call, eventually I fell asleep with tears falling on my pillow, hearing the sounds of my brothers unwittingly sleeping in the next room.

It shot me. It felt like my whole world went into silence and slow motion. I couldn't hear anything, all I knew was Jacob died, I was walking slowly, the tears running down my face were slow, and I was very sad.

Waking up to the cold ceramic floor. The pain of my face after hitting the floor. I had never slept in a bed that was so high off the floor, or nearly as far from a wall. I knew today was the day I was finally going to see my mother again. I hadn’t seen her in almost a week; doesn’t seem like long but at the age of eight I needed my mom. I had been so far away from my dad and my brother for months now, but I’ve had her; it seemed like enough. Being with my grandparents, from my dad’s side of the family, after all, that has happened. We had come for only one reason; my mother’s mom was sick.

I watched as Johanna tried to talk to Ella the way I had, but she still laid limp. I was crying too much to speak, so Johanna's husband Jim called my parents so they knew what was happening. It felt like hours, but the ambulance finally arrived. I ran down the three staircases to the bottom floor so the paramedics knew where to go. They had all these different machines and started hooking her up. They surrounded her to the point where I couldn’t see her. Johanna told me she thought she was having a seizure, and when she said those words, I fell to the ground thinking it was all my fault. “I should have been watching her every second. I never should have taken my eyes off off her.” All I could think was my little sister, my everything, is going to lose her life

We had arrived at the hospital and my mom walked ahead of me to her Two sisters so she can figure out what was going on, Then she dropped.My Aunts caught her and I ran as if my life depended on it. I held my mom as the river rolled down her face and I told her everything is going to be ok. She then told me, “Sh...Sh...She didn’t M..M..Make it.” My heart was torn into million of pieces.I felt as if I was stuck in a trap.

Mom picked us up early from school one day, and I saw a look of fear on her face as she uncharacteristically sped away. "Mom, where are we going?" I asked. "Your dad is in the hospital, he's very sick. We are going to see him," she replied, choking on her words speaking to her two young children. "WHAT'S WRONG!?" my brother and I exclaimed. "Your dad broke his leg really bad, and he could have a blood clot that could go to his heart." I couldn't control myself. I cried all the way to the

My father and I willingly stayed at the hospital that night. Missing eight days of school within a span of three weeks, I continually struggled with a heavy sense of powerlessness, looking for ways to affect change in the situation. Many days I held her ashen hands, massaged her feet, and put ice packs on her forehead when her fever increased. I wanted to take care of her the way she had always done for me, but as a small twelve year old boy, I knew I could never come close and yet, I tried my

My fists curled into a ball.The blood pooling in my hands as I squeezed my fingernails into my palm made me whimper. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as it turned bright red. “Leave me alone!” I screamed, my voice cracking as tears welled in my eyes. I spun around and grabbed the door handle, jerking it open. “Rachel!” I heard her scream before I stormed out. That was the biggest fight I had ever had with my mom. I stayed outside until 9 o’clock that night. I only slipped into the house when I knew she would be fast asleep. I lept into bed, exhausted, and slept the whole night through knowing I’d wake up to an empty house….

Once upon a time, there was this boy, now this boy was a strange boy he never talked to anyone he didn 't have any friends, and no one knew his name. Some boys at his school would come up to him and say hi or would try to ask for his name but this strange boy would just tell them to go anyway, the boy didn 't seem to have a problem with having no friends, but then when this boy grew older and got in high school he meet this girl,Her name was Evangeline. Evangeline was the prettiest girl in school everyone loved her. Evangeline saw the boy staring at her one day so she went to him and asked the boy for his name the boy didn 't reply, Evangeline asked again and again but the boy never answered. Evangeline asked the boy for his name every