Death Changed My Life

Decent Essays
I was 14 years old, when death first crossed my life. Death wasn’t sweet and delicate like many people described before, or seen it in movies and T.V. shows. They did not explained how it will change my young life. It hurted like I was shoot 20 times in every single muscle of my body. It arrived slow and active, with its arms open and ready to leave pain. It took my mother’s life in change of depression and a broken family. During the first months of my life without my protector, I felt like a cucaracha. The voice that appear after she left, it made me stay in bed for days, not eat enough, not letting myself success at school. Her abandonment made my family weak and making me weak too. The cucaracha inside my head change my bright perspective and joyful life for alarms of crying at midnight and desperate motherhood talks.
On the night of her farewell, my family felt apart as we pick up the phone. My brothers deep voice trying not to break, it announces the arrived of death, again. Through the phone he
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The smell of tamales were a sign of happiness and get-together moments, now it's a sign of death lying down. The smell of the hospital kept following me everywhere for a couple of months, especially at night when my depression arrived. Feeling the cold metal of the hospital stairs were more than cut glass through my hands. This feeling made me run faster to arrive at room 4103, “Apurate Tamara” I say to myself. The touch of the flowers at the funeral felt like knives cutting my heart in pieces. “Mantente fuerte” my mind kept telling me, and the rain felt like God’s tears. After all, the hugs from thousands of people did not felt warm, they were cold like a winter in Boston.
The sounds in the hospital were blocked by my screaming and crying. The noises were shut off for a couple of months, it did not matter anymore. The birds outside my window were nothing more than a disturbance of my
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