Moving Away Narrative

One warm summer morning my sister, dad, and I were sitting and watching T.V. and my best friend’s dad called and invited us over for the weekend. He said

Stepping out of the car I analyzed the environment around me. A gust of fresh air flowed swiftly through my hair and caressed my face. The temperature outside was mildly warm and humid. Rays of sunshine blazed down upon me and begun to heat up my black t-shirt. The black and rough asphalt crumbled beneath my feet as I walked. I could tell that it was recently paved because of how smooth it was when I slid my shoe across it. Sweat collected on both of my palms because of the anxiety I gathered prior to my visit. Everything on my body seemed heavier at the time. The necklace dangling around my neck. My phone and wallet that rested in my pockets. It was the result of all of the built up tension within me. I had no idea what to expect.

The year was 1999 when we moved to Colorado from New Mexico. I was just a year old. My father recalls searching restlessly day and night to help support me and my mother. Coming to a new state was difficult; moving from basement to basement was their only option. Fortunately, a little after our arrival, my father found a job working construction and we were able to get a small apartment.Although small, it was still fulfilling in every way. Money was scarce at the time, as well as food. As he talks, he mentions a weekend night when he and I were spending some time together in the living room. I was a year old, and I was hungry. I decided to go to the kitchen and find some milk. When I made it to the kitchen, I opened the fridge. My father says,

After departing from the French Quarter, we headed north to Biloxi, Mississippi, east through Mobile, Alabama and out onto Florida’s long, desolate and boring country highway into the panhandle and past Pensacola. On the drive home, I started feeling a lot of nervous anxiety. I was suddenly

The car's wheels caress the highway lovingly. I forget the rumble of the cars behind for a moment, instead focusing on the insignificant touching of the wheels and ground. My sister sat at the wheel seemingly waiting for some kind of sign, waiting for me. She spoke, “Are you excited about moving back to Meetleburg?” As if, I am leaving behind all that I have worked for in the past four-teen years! I stayed silent to the dismay of my sister.

At age of eight I moved away from a country leaving everything my mother grandmother language everything going up I was very close to my grandmother both my mom side and my fathers my father mom was the one who raised me since I was nine months she offered to raise me because me and my brother are very close we are 9 1/2 months apart or cold my grandmother "BIBI"similar to Nana in English, she took very good care of me love her so much she was basically my mother I slept in the same bed as her she even had my own parts to cook my food in them nobody else could used when I turned six starting first grade parents moved far from her house and they took me away from her every weekend she would ask for me and call for me I only got to see her like

I pulled out of his driveway and got back on the highway. Soon I got to my apartment building and went to my floor, 21. From the glass-enclosed elevator, I could see everything. I could see the magnolia trees, ashes, beeches, and bald cypresses. Far away, I could see the gulf and the fisheries on the water. Florida's economy was growing rapidly, in terms of fish. (Fuson and Norrell; Muller and Irvin). Finally, the elevator warning bell rang and I got off. I walked down the carpeted hallway and I was at my apartment. There, I unlocked the door and walked in. The sun was down and the stars were up. I could see lights everywhere from the other homes and buildings. I walked into my room and fell into the bed. I could tell it was time for bed. I shut my eyes and dreamed sweet dreams. It was early in the evening, yet there I rest, the only peaceful part of the hectic Florida town

It was a dark and rainy Sunday night in October. I was standing at the front door with two suitcases beneath my feet and listening to the raindrops pitter patter upon the roof of the house. As I was waiting for my ride to take me to my next destination, the thoughts of where I was going and the friends I was leaving behind filled my head. The sounds of an engine could be heard in the distance. It was then I knew, my time in Rio Vista had come to an end, and my new life in Sacramento was about to begin.

Lexie and Brooklyn climbed into the car for their day of sightseeing. Brooklyn had been looking forward to seeing the space needle since she found out about it’s existence. She couldn’t wipe the cheesy grin off of her face at the thought of getting to tour around the city she had dreamed of visiting since she was a little girl. The thought gave her butterflies as she imagined what everything would look like up close, what it would smell like, how it would feel. She was pulled out of her trance with the stopping of the car. As she turned to look out the front window she smile dropped. “Traffic.” She mumbled.

The car suddenly stopped and jolted me from my sleep. Disoriented, I looked around and tried to make sense of where I was and what I was doing. Over to my left, I saw my sister doing the same. Tall, blue, connected houses surrounded us and we were parked in the middle of a pristine parking lot. Green, luscious lawns sat in front of those blue houses. A gigantic tree surrounded by beautiful multicolored flowers sat to the left of a dumpster and a wooden sign with white script on it. “The Pointe at Stoneview,” I read to myself.

It’s no secret, life is chaotic. As a child, in fact the very second you made your debut in the hospital room, you probably took a great big gulp of tepid sterilized air and began to scream. Before birth you had been infected. The struggle had already begun. Mom and Dad did as much as they could to help you adjust, but the cozy world you lived in would never be available to you. You messed your diaper, you rolled off the bed, and you collapsed in ear-splitting tomato faced hysterics for no reason. You couldn't even get food from the table to your charming little mouth for several months. What is this ferocious disease you have been subjected to? You have been infected with the disease chaos. We’ll call it the law of Adam, because he deserves

I want to leave, I want to disappear. Not a vacation, but that spontaneous quick escape with no bothers, just an unrestricted trip to free the mind and enjoy the bits of silence. To go by car to see how the scenery around me changes as I kill the distance, while listening to my favorite music as loud as I can. Just shout out my lungs with my terrible singing. As the music plays, I will grab a book, which will get all my beliefs and views away. No matter what the book will be about. As long as it would get me away, away from here. There would be just me and the characters of the novel, who struggle, fight, and compete, while they face delight, pleasure, and glory. Every so often, I will stop at the cafes on the road to grab some food, which

I was born and raised in the Philippines. I have four brothers and a sister: Weng, Richard, Karen, and Paul. I grew up with my epileptic and mentally disabled brother, Paul, since the rest of my siblings were much older than us. My father was a doctor and my mother was a housewife. Growing up, my family was fortunate enough to have enough capital to run several businesses. In 2000, we lost everything and my family went bankrupt due to several failed business ventures. The next year, half of my family decided to move to Ohio in the US. My parents made this decision because this is what’s best for me and Paul. This event was both sad and exciting because we were leaving my older siblings but we were also moving to the “land of milk and honey.” I can still remember Paul being extremely excited because he will finally see his favorite NBA players. I was so happy for him because in comparison to the Philippines, disabled in this country receive services and opportunities

Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was

When my parents got divorced I was only two years old so I don’t really remember much of them being together. The only thing I knew was that I lived with my mom along with my sister Kelsey and Lexi lived with Dad. My mom had the habit of moving around. There was a time where in one school year I attended ten different schools and that’s just what I can remember. Every time she had a new boyfriend we moved or they moved in with us. I remember one time she had three different guys in one week. It was so hard to keep up not to mention they were involved in drugs or they were just plain creepy, but hey what do I know i’m just a kid. These boyfriends of hers were either too nice or mean. I had to see a therapist once because of all the mental abuse I went through with them.