My Day The Worst Winter Of My Life

As soon as my eyes woke up to the bitter cold of the night and stars covered by black blanket of clouds, I knew that this was it. I had tried to prepare myself that day, but I was at school when it happened. The moment the intercom came over the classroom, “Hailey Wooldridge needs to come the office, her mom is here to check her out,” my heart stopped. I was able to make it to the office without losing my composure, but as soon as my eyes met my mom standing there with tears in hers I lost it. Right there standing in the school office, the food gates of heaven opened up in my eyes and I could not stop the rivers from flowing. My best friend since kindergarten had died. All the planning of moving in together when we went to college was down the drain. The late nights of watching horribly filmed scary movies was done. My heart was broken, and the pieces are still not taped together properly. Two days later was her funeral. Her mother had asked me to say a couple of words about her during the service, but the thought of standing next to her lifeless body talking about her and not to her made everything seem surreal. By the power of prayer and numerous amounts of tears, I stood up from my seat and walked lifelessly to the podium that viewed hundreds of people waiting to see what I had to say. I do not know how I got through that speech without hysterically crying, but somehow, I talked like I was having a conversation with Serra once again. In front of me, I

I remember waking up that day and that feeling in my stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Growing up I knew about my father's sickness. My family, I recall, was always supportive. No one ever thinks about how one day, everyone you’re around for years, can just vanish. I cherished my friends as I was growing up. I lived there for a majority of my life, up until fourth grade. I remember sitting at a neighbor's house and having the mother come into the room and inform me that I need to be home swiftly. As I ran home, my head was crowded with thoughts to the point where I could not even think about why I was supposed to be home quickly. That day marked the transition of what would be the biggest change in my life. As by dad became sicker,

It was two days before Christmas, when Josephine opened the door to her 12 year old son’s room. Chay was the oldest of her four children, and the one she related to most. As Josephine sat down on the edge of the bed, Chay opened his eyes slowly. The dim light that seeped through the partially opened door revealed tears in his mother’s eyes.

I was in school when I got a news flash about a shooting near a bus stop. At lunchtime, I opened up the story and it read, “Teen killed on way to lake park bus stop”. However, it wasn’t the headline that hit me but rather the first line of the article which mentioned that a Palm Beach Gardens high school teen, Claverle Joseph, was the one that was killed on his way to the bus stop. I didn’t know how to react. I just froze; I couldn’t process the emotions that were swirling through my mind. This was the first time in my life that I dealt with a death that was personal to me. My Grandparents had died when I was too young to recount any experiences with them. It was difficult to comprehend that I would never see a kid that I had gotten to know so well over the last three years ever again. My family and I did what we could for his family in there grieving state and donated to help raise money for his funeral. Although his death came as a surprise, I knew there was something wrong before the incident occurred because he did not come out for the travel team that last year. This was strange because he truly loved the team and playing basketball. Following my suspicion, a couple days after his death, I found out that there had been a series of incidents, including a shooting one week before his death in which he had been shot in the hand. His family stated for the news that they had been living in fear of their son’s life for a while. I wish I could have done more for him because whether he knew it or not he did so much for my growth as a person on and off the court. His life and this experience taught me to truly value one’s own life and to never take anything for granted because it could all be erased in an instant. His death helped me understand that I need to be as compassionate and empathetic for everyone I meet because you will never comprehend what adversities and difficulties they face in their

Father’s eyes remained fixed on his daughter’s tear trails and bloody bubbling nose. His gaze grew pained and glassy. I know that man. He shook his head of grey hair and came to. The man crouched and calmly stroked Sybil’s brunette curls. How he missed her frizzy halo during dark dawns when she woke.

I didn't know what to say to him. My mind was empty. I couldn't tell whether he was sad or angry. It was difficult for me to interpret his emotions. He was not the kind to sew his heart on his sleeve. Yet, I saw tears streaming down his cheek whenever he was all alone. I felt bad for him, for the boy whose parents had died in a storm.

He cried on my shoulder that morning in his hospital room when he saw himself in the mirror for the first time. The right side of his handsome face sagged, and he couldn't open his drooping eye. He didn't cry because of vanity, but rather because the image looking back at him represented a lost way of life.

Her whole world was crashing down. It what seemed like only a split second, her best friend’s father had been condemned to death. Someone who she considered to be like a father was going to be taken away, ripped away from her.

As I pulled up to my friends house to drive her to school, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, weather was nice and while we were sad this day due to the loss of a dear friend, we were both looking forward to things getting back on track with school. A few days prior, our friend, who always wanted to ride a motorcycle, took a ride with a boy she met. This would be her first and last ride. The motorcycle rear ended a stopped car, she was ejected and dragged under an oncoming vehicle to her death. As I picked up my friend for school, March 9, 1989 our dear friend would be laid to rest. We planned to attend her funeral that afternoon and a special event in her honor at our school. While making a left turn into our school parking lot, the plan for the day changed, as a blue sedan going full speed, slammed into the passenger side of my car. The reality of the situation; I turned left in front of an oncoming vehicle.

It was on Thursday before the biggest softball game of my eighth-grade year. I was in Algebra learning how to find the hypotenuse of a triangle when a shift happened. It was like a black cloud just came over me taking away everything visible by the eye. Even though I couldn’t see I could still feel everything. I felt cold and lifeless, kind of like a piece of my heart had been taken away but I did not know why. So I went to what I knew was best to do. I began to fall on my knees and cry, but as I did that I just went deeper into this dark place that seemed inescapable. It screamed the name of Jesus and suddenly the dark place went away.

My Dad asked me if I could help out at Cedar Springs Camp with other people I know. The weird thing was I said, “yes”. When we got there I saw that another teenager I knew was there to. She also heard about what happened yesterday. But, basically what we did was simple. All we had to do was load wood onto a truck. After about three to four hours of working, the girl invited us to watch her little brother play football. My brother Stephen went with to. And watching these little kids tackle each other was the funniest thing ever to Stephen and I. And watching the kids attempting to run was even funnier. After that we went to McDonald’s for supper. But yet again, I still had that depressed resting face. Next there was a balloon release in honor of Jadon Wulff. We all wore blue because it was his favorite color. Once I got out of the car, I saw my friend Levi, and I started to sob again. We were walking to the suspension bridge, and we met Sam. We each had a blue balloon in our hand. And a few minutes later everyone there released their balloons at the same time. After that, all the freshman sat in a circle and prayed. I also took big part in that myself. We were all sobbing which is completely okay in a situation like this. Levi’s Mom gave me a ride home. After that I went to bed, I was still a little sad but sort of content. Because I realized that Jadon Wulff is in heaven now and that God doesn’t want me to worry. A week later I grew acceptance that he was going to be with God for an eternity. And once I die, I will meet him

I could hear muted sobs as friends and family members began lashing out in tears. Yet, I stood still as ever as memories with my best friend began flashing in my head. I was best friends with a girl who lived right next door to me since birth. We told secrets and laughed with one another since the day I can recall my earliest memory as a child. It was unfortunate to see it all come to an end now that she was gone. All I saw was her lifeless body slowly turning pale on a stretcher stationed on her living room floor. This was one of those moments that makes you question how quickly life can take an unexpected turn. I wasn't willing to accept that

The most traumatic event in my life was when my father passed away in 2005, when I was only seven. At first, I hadn’t understood his death. I knew what death was, and that it was permanent, but I hadn’t accepted the fact that he was gone until long after his death. My mother was a mess, and I was a confused second grader who could do nothing to help her. We began to go to counselors and psychologists, who all made me feel very uncomfortable. All they wanted was to talk about what had happened to my dad, when it was the last thing I wanted to say anything about. I laid in bed crying for a few weeks, knowing it was because of his death, but I felt emptiness rather than sadness or anger. My mother began to take medication for depression, and still continues to do so. At only seven, I believed her sadness was my fault. To be honest, I still feel hurt when I see her taking the depression medication. I know that I had nothing to do with his death, but it granted me with an unwelcoming sense of guilt. I had just been with him the night before his death, and now he had been cremated into a bag of ashes. All of my teachers were very precautious about mentioning him, and I didn’t know how to process all the new attention I had received at school. I was definitely depressed, but I found a way out of my slump. I distracted myself from his death and did all of my school work from my absences as quickly as I could, and

On July 10th, 2015 one of my best friends, Lexi Kretsch died in a car crash on her way back from Mankato. Personally, it was a really hard thing to go through and I would never wish that upon anyone, but it is the circle of life and she is in God’s hands. Lexi and I had played softball together for two years. After she passed away prematurely, it was difficult to play the game that brought us together. Jen Kretsch, Lexi’s mom, then started to contact telling me to play for Lexi and her legacy.The item that helped me the most was the Bible. I would take out passages that would pertain to me for that day and I would feel as if she was talking to me. I learned how to play/live with the hole in my heart. Feeling that emptiness made me start to

When I turned 11-years-old my whole childhood began to change my life went from being perfect to everything but perfect. One day I came home to hear the news my father, my best friend; my hero was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. Not knowing the struggle my family was about to take on I just began to cry. I had a million things running through my head what’s going to happen? Will everything be okay? Why him? What is going to happen? With all these things rushing through my head all I could do was cry not knowing this was least worse to come.