My Best Friend - Original Writing

When people think of animal abuse, they often think of the video they saw where somebody harms a dog, cat… In fact, animal abuse comes in many forms. Animal abuse includes eating the animal, circus animal, producing cosmetic from inside the animal. We eat meat, that’s the fact. However, the more the technology grows, the more we seem to kill the animal in such a violent ways that people always say: “If you let all the kids go to the slaughter-house, we will have a whole vegetarian generation.” ( Wu Ji Yiang). Circus or aquariums are also another form of animal abuse. We go there and see all types of animals doing tricks, we have fun; but to train the animals to do that, they’d have to go through a stage where they are left starving. Trainers use whips, muzzles, tight collars, electric prods,

When you stare at the stars for too long your vision will blur, and if you don 't blink the stars will disappear and you will be left with the empty night sky. I can 't count how many nights I spent lying in my driveway staring at the stars. My best friend and I had made a habit of staying out too late laughing and crying until there was no light left. When I remember these times I always remember Abby 's shoes. She and I used to prop our feet up against the bricks of my house and just talk about whatever came to mind. Her red converse next to my bare feet. Although, we fed off each other in a way because whenever one of us was upset or angry the other was sure to follow. We had not been apart much during our lives. When I was 5 she moved

A few years ago when I arrived in the United States, specifically in Arizona I met a group of people who were from Cuba just like me. From that group, I became closer to Eduardo someone who I consider to be one of my best friends. When I met him, he was 20 years of age and from my point of view, his appearance resembled that of a man. One day while we engaged in one of our typical conversations, he began to cry unexpectedly. I was completely shocked and concerned as I was not aware of what was occurring to him. He then started confessing that throughout his life he had been trapped inside the body of a man and that he didn’t feel comfortable with the person he was obligated to represent. I didn’t entirely comprehend what he implied as “being obligated” until the day I met his parents. From that moment on everything began to make sense, Eduardo’s family was what we could classify as “traditional”. Coming from a traditional Latino family, it is important to keep the image of a real man as someone who portrays exaggerating masculine characteristics or in other words, someone who appears and performs like a “macho”. In Eduardo’s case, his community in Cuba didn’t accept his “feminine” behavior because it didn’t satisfy their expectations of what it signified to be a man. Thus, in the eyes of his family, Eduardo was a humiliation and so he was forced to imitate a man. Nonetheless, it wasn’t until he starting living in the United States that he initiated his gender transition

Most nights, I would quickly and effortlessly fall asleep after a good meal and shower, but for some reason I found it very difficult to sleep this night. I tossed and turned part of the night and at other times lying there staring at the ceilings. Although I was sleepless, I was aware that I wanted a change in my life. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, I just knew that a change in scenery and lifestyle would be great for me now.

BOOM! The doors busted, open gunshots fired. A grenade went off, echoing through the room. Grenade shrapnel flew everywhere. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down and saw that blood was oozing out of the fresh wound. Suddenly, things started to get blurry, the room was spinning, and then everything went black. My life was flashing through my mind, I was sure that I was going to die. My mind was going all over the place, then it stopped. It stopped where it all began.

“You can go now April,” called out Dad. I put down my basket and went in the direction of the backdoor of the little old house my parents and I lived in.

It 's funny how fast things can disappear. They 're there one moment and then gone the next. That was life for me. Just as I got used to what my life had become, and was okay with it, it changed. In the time it took to open the front door of my apartment my current life disappeared. Sometimes I think it 's the best thing that ever happened to me, sometimes I think it 's the worst.

I made him proud. It wasn’t the type of proud where you bring home a good grade; no, it was more of an awe type of proud. It was a challenge to make him proud due to my ambiance, and the people who occupied it. If I told you I had a bad childhood, I wouldn’t only be lying but simply undermining my pride that I developed growing up there. I was constructed in paradise, and by paradise I mean the place you fantasize about vacationing every spring break. 26 miles long, and exactly 6 miles to be exact. Overcoming obstacles came with two factors, me being the only girl in the family, and the idea that my family pursued, which was boys did the better things like, fishing. My paradise may have been limited, but it implemented the principles that I apply to my everyday life and shaped me into the young girl I am today.

I have never been more scared in my entire life. I’ve seen it in movies but it’s never happened in real life. I can actually see it with my own eyes. We all saw it and we even have evidence.

A crushing blow, a silent but heavy cry, the physical cracking of my innocent heart. All things that I felt, but hid, in the summer of 2013. This was the day that my family, my world, fell apart for good. Everything was a lie, or so I was told by one party and by the other half, there were no lies. Forced to choose sides between my loved ones, I broke down and grew up in a matter of hours.

It felt like one of those horror films, when you 're all alone and you feel like a killer is gonna pop out of nowhere. Then, you see them, those people, the ones that make you feel nervous, but can change your life. The steps get closer and closer and you don’t want to do anything but run-run far away! Run away from everything in the way. You feel like your body is sinking in quicksand, and it’s too late. They are here, and life will never be the same.

When I finally hit the ground, it was too late. Mike had already beaten me down. There was no turning back from here. I made my choice, to love my family more than anything else. And I don’t regret my decision. I should probably make myself comfortable, I’m destined to be here for a while. If only I was able to go upstairs and talk to our father. I would tell him how much I love him and how I could never see anyone as his equal. I’m better than all of them ,he has to know that, he’ll notice this once he sees how useless that garbage he brought home really is. Did Mike really have to push me down and into this dark basement? I guess it was his only option since I wasn’t ready to leave willingly. Even though he was only following orders he could have easily come with me. How could Dad expect me to love anything more than him? Why didn’t my opinion matter? Where in this hell of a situation is mom? I hope she comes home soon so that she could talk to dad about this punishment. I hate it down here. Its dark, the walls are red and I can see my reflection on the broken glass on the floor. Damn, i forgot my shoes upstairs. I’ve been down here for what feels like an eternity and my knees are still sore, I’m bleeding. I wish it was light enough down here for my eyes to adjust so that I could look around for some band aids or some gauze. There’s blood all over me. I know it’s blood because i can smell it and its starting to dry and get sticky between my fingers. It’s starting to drip

If you are reading this, I congratulate you. Not many converse with me before their time. Oh, but where are my manners?...I must have misplaced them; therefore, I will refrain from introducing myself. Instead, I will tell you my story in the hopes that you will fear me as I was once feared. Time used to be my ally, guiding everyone and everything to me, at least almost everyone. Young Enoch was able to escape my grasp, as was Elijah when his time neared. Now, Time has beaten me down into something altogether different. Time has used me to create hope.

One summer morning around about nine AM I was sound asleep, however until I smelled an unfamiliar odor and not sure what it was I paid it no mind. Before I could get up and wash my face my mother pushed my room door open yelling INDYA GET UP THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!! I jumped up. Our house isn’t but so big, so when I ran out my room, I saw the flames coming out of the kitchen. My first thought was my little brother; his room is straight through the kitchen. My mom then said my brother was not in his room. It was my little cousin; I could barely breathe so I ran outside. Forgetting my phone in the house I quickly go in the house, grab my phone run out of the house. Now let me tell you about this life changing experience.

“I lay in Death’s arms; writhing in feverish pain, my stomach drawn tight from hunger. I talked with the Great Spirit and asked him to take me, to release me from my torment, but he said it was not my time. He said that I must learn to see, not with my eyes, but with my heart, my spirit within.