I had a Dream

Having a dream and living with passion is very important because I believe living without passion is like being dead. Someone like Tony Hawk could agree. Tony Hawk has been a professional skateboarder for over 24 years. However, he did not receive that title overnight; Tony got his first skateboard when he was only 9 years old. Since then, Tony worked extremely hard and put a lot of his focus on skateboarding. He did it because that was his Dream. Tony’s Dream was frowned upon by many of his teachers and adults alike. One of his teachers even told him that he “would never make it in the workplace if he didn’t follow directions exactly” (Hawk), but he never gave up his Dream. He kept working hard and eventually became a pro at the young age of 15.

I remember the first day I walked into my kindergarten class, I clenched my mother’s hand with all my might to prevent her from letting go. The kids around me, whom I supposed were my classmates, had long let go of their mother’s had and were playing together, and even as a five year old, at that point I felt like an outsider. I pleaded my mom to not leave but my attempts failed as I found myself alone yet surrounded by complete strangers. As I stood in the center of the room while pushing back my tears and eyeing my mother make her way out the door, I heard the teacher call my name. I timidly walked towards the spot on the yellow carpet she was signaling at for me to sit on. I heard Mrs. Ross’s soothing voice but no matter how much I concentrated

The stench of death hit my nostrils as I opened the door to go inside, which is why I always hated going to the hospital. We waited the fifteen minute queue, until I heard my name from a nurse. I followed the nurse into a small, beige room. I sat down on the examining table, as my doctor walked in. I told him my symptoms, and he did a quick check up. His cold fingers pressed against my lower back. “Breathe in and out.” He said. I did as told. “Slower.” he exclaimed. At that moment, while I was slowly breathing in and out, I could hear a small click every time I inhaled. The doctor looked up and said, “Ahhh, you seem to have pneumonia.” He explained to my mom and I what that meant because we were clueless. After he finished, he told us that if I waited any longer to go to the hospital, he wouldn’t be speaking to me, which opened my mom’s eyes finally. He told me that I couldn’t go to school for at least another two weeks, gave me a school note and my prescription. We left the hospital. My mom dropped me off, and went to pick up the medication. As I lay in bed, I remember thinking about everything that has happened to me in the past two days, and what the doctor told me. Those thoughts were interrupted by the opening of my bedroom door as my mom walked in. She handed me the medication. I swallowed the pills, and fell asleep. The next morning my mom walks in with a stack of papers. She said, “It’s alright if you’re not able to attend class,

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

I walked silently, my converse crunching on the wet sidewalk. I zipped up my jacket and took a sip of my coffee. I slowly walked towards my school when someone's shoulder slammed in to me. My coffee flew out of my hands, the lid came of as it hit the ground, spilling all over the sidewalk. I stumbled as I tried to regain my balance. I hate this small town I thought to myself. When I returned home I arrived to both of my parents sitting at the table. I looked at them with a confused look, “Ava why don't you take a seat,” Father said “we have something to tell you.” I took a seat not saying a word just giving them a confused look. “Ava honey your father got a promotion,” Mother stated “and we are going to be moving to California!” Fireworks were going off in my head thinking of all of the new things I would get to experience.

When I woke up in the morning, my mom had left for work. My dad was singing in the kitchen, banging pots around. I got up, tiptoed down the hall, washed my face. A neatly wrapped present lay on the bathroom counter. It was addressed to me. I stuffed it into my robe pocket, and rushed back down the hall. Under the covers, I opened the package. On the first page of a small, leather notebook, an inscription read: to a writer, love your mother. I never wrote anything in the notebook. I could never think of anything good

They wanted me to do their homework and we was only in the 2nd or 3rd grade. There was no excuses why they could not do their own. When I turned six years old, everything changed. I was called to the office and when I got there my aunt was standing beside a woman and they were looking and smiling at me. I just looked and smiled back and automatically knew it was my mom. She looked like me and I could not say anything because my heart was just pounding. I just hugged her. Ever since, I would go to my mom’s house, on the weekend, to spend time with her. When I hit 10 years old, I walked in my aunt house after school one day and a man sitting on the sofa and I automatically knew it was my dad. I knew it was him because I knew where he was. He was in jail. He wrote to me and sent pictures. It had me thinking maybe my mom was in jail also because he told me they had a big fight and she had pulled a knife out on him. I do not know why she did not send pictures or ever write

I woke up and rustled all my things together and jetted down stairs. I see my mom across the room eating her favorite cereal, Lucky Charms. I slugged around the kitchen still half-awake trying to find a bowl, cereal, and milk. Then I heard a whistle and realized she had my breakfast ready on the table. I sat across from her on the table. The scent of perfume hit my nose, it smelled fruity. Her hair was combed back into a sleek bun. She was wearing a formal white shirt and a black skirt and some heels. I slurped the last of the milk as she was almost out the door. I walked outside and ran to the car. I opened the door and got inside. It was 7:59 am.

My parents are always talking about things they want to do and never actually do it, I assumed it was another one of those times. As time progressed and they continued to discuss the matter I got worried. Then one day they had me and my siblings pile into the car and go driving around. I had no clue what they were doing until they pulled up to a house with a “For Sale” sign mounted in the front yard. It hit me that they were actually planning on moving somewhere. Weeks passed with them discussing things and I sat worried in my room. My mom got all of our attention one day, “Children, we are going to go look at a house today everyone get ready!” I approached her and said, “Like on the inside?” She said, “Yes.” I quickly put on reasonable clothes and piled into the car trying not to argue with her. It felt like hours that we were in the car driving around. I had never really traveled much except when I went to my grandma’s house which was 50 minutes away, so leaving town for the first time felt like a whole new world. Trees surrounded us as we drove through gravel roads, up and down hills, and around loops, we finally arrived at a pale white house with brown accents. As we pulled onto the the rough driveway I observed the front door and the garage. It had a three car garage, one door separated from the other. We all made our way to the

I could not see her for she was wrapped in an old green rag. My heart pounded as I looked at her, tears leaving my eyes quicker than warmth in winter. I quickly went inside and bounded up the stairs to my room. I was shocked to see my bed completely bare, all essence of her gone, light shining through the windows of the bright, sunny day as if my world hadn’t just turned completely upside down. I don’t know how long I sat on the edge of my bed with a blank mind, unmoving. Finally when the skies were a mix of purple and orange, I heard a knock at my door. I honestly don’t remember what my parents said, because I had lost all energy and willingness to

7th grade was the year I woke up. My mom called me into her bedroom late one afternoon and was still sitting on her bed, wearing her pajamas. The bright and cheerful sunshine that lit up the room gave a false ambiance of the tension that clouded the air. I already knew what she was going to say, but I did not want to believe it as the truth. I had noticed that my mom and dad's relationship with one another was growing apart just by the way they acted around each other. The conversations between them became shorter and their affection for one another began to fade. My dad spent his nights falling asleep watching TV on the couch, while my mom slowly disappeared back into her bedroom, alone. This had been happening for a while now, so I do not know why I was even surprised when my mom said to me that, “Your dad and I are getting a divorce”. I should have seen it coming. The clues were all in front of me, but I was too afraid to put them together. I was scared because, for the first time in my life, the image of my "perfect" family was crumbling before me. I knew inside that my family was falling apart, but I was desperately holding onto the fibers that I thought were keeping us together. It is hard to believe that one encounter can change the course of one's life forever. In this instance, I was awoken from the dream that I had been living in for so long.

It was a nice bright morning as the sun was saying its goodbyes, fall was greeting us with gentle breezes, I was wearing a nice purple dress and my mom had braided my hair, I felt the fear running through me as I held my mom’s hand, she walked me through the doors and down the hall to my classrooms where I was greeted by my teacher with a smile as those few moments flew bye I was very distant very far I would occasionally pinched myself hoping this was all a dream my mom waved goodbye and left my classroom i quickly realized this wasn't a dream and I wouldn't be waking up anytime soon

We approached the factory, and we were all frightened. We saw soldiers, rallying the workers. The soldiers came to us, and they talked to mom. When mom told them that she was the owner of the factory, they arrested her. The soldiers realized that we were mom’s children, so we were also arrested. I recall how scared I was during the arrest, yet I tried to remain brave. The soldiers did not hesitate; they took us to a train station. Everything happened so fast. One second I was with my family, the other I was on a train headed to an unknown destination. At this point I wasn’t with my family anymore, for they were separated from me at the train station. The train was very claustrophobic, many others were in it. I was merely a child, and everyone else in

Every night, as I sat on the table with my younger brothers assisting them with their homework, I hear a familiar sound at the door. As she walks her heels click, and I can hear her searching her bag for her keys, the next thing I know the keys are in the lock and as it turns me and my younger brothers’ jump. We run to the door and indeed we scream in unison “Mommy’s home”, one by one she gives us a hug and a kiss. My mother asks us how our day was, and if we finished our homework, she then looks to me and said “did you cook and assist your younger ones with their homework”; I replied “yes mom”. As I warm the food, I take my mother’s purse, jacket, and shoes put them away and prepare the table for her to eat dinner. As I glance at the

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.