My Birthday - Original Writing

My eighteenth birthday was probably the worst I ever came to know. I expected so much because in some degree I was grown, in the eyes of the law. I wanted everything to be perfect and everyone to be happy. Clarence, my boyfriend, took me out for lunch. We ended up going to a place where his ex-girlfriend worked. I wasn’t very pleased to see her face and it was very uncomfortable for me to enjoy my meal while I knew she was there. She treated him poorly in their relationship, and then they had something

it was my birthday. I was feeling so good that day and I was praying that the feelings stay with me forever. I have always being treated like a princess in my house but that day everyone was treating me with more respects and love. I got so many calls and gifts from my friends and relatives in the morning. My day was going great so far until I received a call at around eight in the morning. I saw the number and I knew it was my aunt Bella calling from London, United Kingdom. Aunt Bella is my dad’s

'I can 't bare to tell them the truth, it 's, it 's uh, too, scarring. I fucking killed my own best friend, at her own birthday party too. ' That horrid memory has been eating me alive since I was three, 'Yeah when you killed her. '  "Jake! Get up!" Luke yells. "Okay! I 'm coming!" I shout back. Since "that" day, I 've made a new best friend, Rylie, who lives here in Sydney. We 're the same in a lot of ways, taste in music, socially awkward, and can make each other laugh hysterically. So we 're

' I can 't bare to tell them the truth, it 's, it 's uh, too, scarring. I fucking killed my own best friend, at her own birthday party too. ' That horrid memory has been eating me alive since I was three, 'Yeah when you killed her. '  "Jake! Get up!" "Okay! I 'm coming!" Since "that" day, I 've made a new best friend, Rylie, who lives here in Sydney, Australia. We 're the same in a lot of ways, same taste in music, we 're both socially awkward at times, and we can make each other laugh hysterically

Anywhere in the World When I was around eight years old, my mother came up with an idea to make my tenth birthday even more special than just the recognition of entering through the gate of double-digit numbers. My mother told my sister, Ella Kate, and I “You are going to be allowed to choose to go anywhere in the world for your tenth birthday, with a few limitations on the destination.” My mother then proceeded to list the few limitations. She stated the obvious examples such as “Not under the

“Come on!” screamed my mother, “It’s Christmas, it’s your birthday, wake up!” I climbed down the ladder from the top bunk and ran over to the Christmas tree. I sat down and picked up a hot, steaming cup of hot chocolate that was waiting for me. The smell of chocolate flowed through my nose, and I took a big gulp. I proceeded to sip the now cold hot chocolate. My sister ran over to me and started pushing presents towards me. “Happy 5th Birthday” my sister said in a jolly voice. I grabbed the presents

My birthday celebrations have always been of epic proportion. I was known to have the grandest parties a small town could imagine. I’d have balloons, decorations, a photographer, (yes a photographer) a DJ, and all my friends which made each birthday unique and special. I 've had friends travel over two hours just to partake in my soirees they were just that amazing. I had planned for all my parties with exact precision and care. This time was slightly different as it was my 40th year; my plan was

to run, as far as I could possibly run. I ran until my legs collapsed underneath me, until my blistered feet could take no more, until the side of my scabbed face was resting on the damp dirt. The leaves rustled in the wind and the sweet, delectable scent of flowers caressed the field. I made it out alive, beaten, but alive. At this point, I honestly felt that I would rather die than run another step. What a great way to spend my 23rd birthday. I managed to pull myself into the shade of a large cherry

February the 1st is my father 's birthday. It’s today. Or should I say "was?" I can 't help the overwhelming emotions I 'm currently feeling. He would have been 44. As I open the gates of this cold and frightening place, death welcomes me breath by breath. I kneel in front of my father 's stone grave. A grave, worn down by weather. I begin staring dreamily, not at the grave, but at something: a distant past, a happier time. I am not here, in the present, but in the past, replaying every event, every

for. My moms cared for me, loved me, and gave me all the support I needed. However, some people say that that how you were raised changes how you turn out. If that were true, I would be perfectly normal. The first time I knew I wasn’t like the others in my family was at my seventh birthday party. Everyone in my first grade class was invited. Looking at one particular boy there, my heart fluttered. Excited, my legs swung back and forth on the wooden chair. A bright blue party hat sat atop my head