My Day With My Best Friend

“Dad, can I go over to Ambers’ house to study tomorrow?” Our daughter Catherine asked the question, from about halfway up the stairs. Only her face could be seen as she peered at my husband hopefully, over the banister. I looked over at my husband, knowing what he would say, before he spoke. “Ask your mom.” My husband said to her, while glancing at me, expectantly. I smiled at him, knowing why he was telling her to ask me. He had worked all week, making the long drive from our home in Ashland to his office in Richmond and was hoping I would drive her to her friend’s house, so he could relax at home. My daughters’ hopeful gaze turned toward me, as well. “Madre?” She didn’t bother repeating the question. I hid the little sting of pain, that I always felt when she called me that, behind a smile. “What time are you supposed to be there, and do I need to bring you over and pick you up as well?” She nodded as she answered me. “Yeah, her mom can’t do it today, but I told her I would help her with her math.” Catherine had always made high marks in her school studies; it was something I was exceedingly proud of. “Yes, I’ll drive you, but make sure your phone is fully charged.” I have always been protective of the kids, and it was a long standing rule that they didn’t leave the house without a way to contact me. “I will.” She called out as she went the rest of the way up the stairs, disappearing from my view.

Every stair that I took I looked over a different page in the book. I wanted to make sure I knew every word so I could read the story that night. Once I got to my room, my mom was waiting patiently beside the bed for me. I looked down at the book in my hands, it was old, barely hanging on by the thread binding from years of use. Then I breathed in deeply and mumbled “Can I read the story tonight?” I was afraid she couldn’t hear me, but she did because with a smile she nodded her head. Filled with excitement I climbed into my spot on the bed and quickly opened the book. My mom sat next to me and held one side of the big book while her other arm was around my shoulder. Then I begun to read “Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,”. My voice squeaked through each page as I tried my best to read the story just as my mom always did. The smooth paper glided under my tiny finger as I traced each sentence to keep my place. The rhythm of my voice was not fluid but

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

My house is crowded with my relatives and friends; my friends and family are here me to wish me good luck and safe journey. My heart is full of mixed emotions. I am scared and sad but excited and happy at the same time as it is my last day at my house and in my country. Tonight is my flight to America. I’m moving to America, to be with my husband and to start a new journey of my life. I remember everything from my last day in Pakistan. I have never been way from my house before. I have always been surrounded by my friends and cousins. My friends have always been with me in my good and bad times and I cannot imagine a day without them. I never thought of leaving them. I didn’t realize how my life would change because of a ‘yes’. My childhood friend Sadiq, who moved to America ten years ago, asked me to marry him. Everyone in my family liked him so without thinking of anything else I said yes to him and we got married in a year, when he visited Pakistan. We were really excited to spend our lives together. What I didn’t realize until the moment I was at the airport that I am going to a new country, where I don’t know anyone other than my husband. I’m leaving all my family and friends here in Pakistan. I didn’t know how to react anymore now, I was sad and crying as I entered airport but I also felt happy inside my heart. When I was at the airport with my family, my grandma kept saying to me, “you have to call us at least three times a day when you get there.” My mom said, “Take

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.

I didn’t know what I would do without Mother; she was my rock, the only thing that was constant in my life. She was my generous advisor, unmoving and strong. I pushed these thoughts away from my head; that was in the past, I couldn’t change it, and it could never be undone. Finally reaching my destination, I sprinted up the front steps, grabbed the brass knocker, and slammed it onto the giant wooden door. The door creaked open, and an annoyed voice spoke through the crack. “Adi, I’m busy right now, please come later.” The door was starting to close before I spoke, “Elle,” I said, my voice cracking, “please, Mother has died, and this act has been passed, and Father doesn’t know what to do, and I don’t know what to do.” The door flung open, and Elle started running in the direction of our house. I ran after her, and when we reached the house, Elle pushed the door open, and yelled, “Father? Father? I’m here!” When she finally found my father, sitting at the table, head in his hands, she embraced him from behind. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Girls, sit down, we have matters to discuss.” He

She walks to the centermost oak tree near Mason Hall, she finally has found the perfect shady spot on an 80-degree day. She passes the boy from her Psychology class and gives him a small smile. She’s taking a journey to a jungle she doesn’t normally observe, a place where many humans and animals inhabit. There isn’t a breeze and the air feels drier than usual. The Diag seems unfriendly today, as she sits down she’s nervous of her surroundings. She plants herself on a somewhat clean patch of grass and pulls out her shiny laptop. She is reading “Werner Herzog’s Conquest of the Useless” for her freshman English class. As she dives her way into the reading she starts to think about where she is, what is going on around her, and the journey that she is on. A bushy red squirrel approaches her, she’s confused why it’s coming so close and quickly gets up to escape its presence. “Why in the world is this squirrel so close to me” she thinks to herself. The girl moves from the tree but as she get up she starts to notice specific details she hasn’t before.

Adjusting my midnight blue tie, I hurried down the sidewalk to St. John’s Baptist Church. Sunday morning, and I was barely awake, the thick fog blurring my vision. If you haven’t already guessed, I’m the enterprising young fellow that springs out of bed at five o’clock every weekend to ring the church bells, waking up my dead and dying little town. This Sunday was muggy as usual, the sun never showing up to greet me. Skipping up the cement steps, I took hold of the clammy oakwood door to let myself in.

I buried my head into my mother’s shirt. My warm tears dampened her shirt, but I could tell she had no intention of pushing me away. There were other voices around me, but her’s was the only one that I cared to focus on. “You’re a strong and brilliant little boy,” she said to me, “you shouldn’t let this move break you down like this.” I knew she was right, but I was just so furiously confused that I didn’t want to acknowledge it. “How could you know?” I howled, “you’re not the one who’s spending hours alone every day because you’re too terrified to ask anyone if they want to play a game or hang out or even have a conversation!” My sobbing intensified. “No,” she quietly said to me, “but you’re not the only one who left Costa Rica to come here.”

As Connie got into the car she felt a wave of grief. She couldn’t get away from the invisible gates surrounding and trapping her as if she were a hunted animal. The ride seemed like a journey, going on forever and ever. Trying to pry information causally, Connie would ask Arnold ,” Where are you taking me?” Arnold just turned around and gave her that sleepy smile of his and , “Don’tcha worry ‘bout a thing honey. You are safe with me.” His smile, that reassuring yet mysterious smile quenched her longing for home and diminished the thought of how her family would think about the absence of their youngest daughter. It seemed to mask her thoughts of how how her cold mother and father would react seeing the their screen door wide open and the music that Connie listened to

Riding the bus home to my grandma’s house. I looked through the papers that Mrs. Garcia had given me. Being cut off from my thoughts by loud and rambunctious crowd of rude children, the bus stopped. “Oh crap, I’m at the bus stop!” I thought. Hurryingly, I shoved all the papers back into my book bag, grabbed my jacket and purse, and bailed off the bus. “Whew, that was too close!” I thought.

“School has been ok,” was all I could offer to the man who had left my life when I was just a small child. After that the kitchen was quiet until my mother came back

My mother and father sat downstairs and talked, Bella sitting with them, while I folded my clothes and put them into my chipped white wooden dresser. I could hear them murmuring between themselves, but I couldn’t hear specific words. My mother came up the stairs about ten minutes later as I was putting the last of my clothes into my dresser. Her five feet two-inch frame stood just inside my door with a Mona Lisa smile. Her eyes were sad and I could tell she was trying to hold back tears. I was confused as to why, and I was going to ask what was wrong, but she told me that my father had something he wanted to talk to me about.

It was refreshing to go out into the world after staying in the house with Jean for so long. The gentle caress of the rain was calming. The rain whispered sweet nothings to me as I watched him drive away in his Volkswagen to her.The pure rain water mixed with my salty tears this was not alarming nor surprising, I expected such. It's hard to watch past lovers thrive while you're struggling, isn't it? Even though I am struggling, I have yet to give up. For I am still left with one thing he has yet to even fathom. Mercy and Memories. Jean and I had grown up together, he had pushed me around in the red wheelbarrow, oh how I loved that rusted old toy. When my night terrors would strike in fierce blows against my young mind, he was there to read me a story and calm me down.

A Memorable day in my life, was, when I went to Walt Disney World. I remember the day like it was yesterday. My Trip to Disney World was the most joyous time in my life. There were so, many things to do, for the whole family to enjoy. My trip Walt Disney World was like a fantasy. Visiting Walt Disney World was more like, an escape from the real world. Visiting Walt Disney World Was an experience. I had the chance to see all of the Disney Characters , That, I've seen on television come to life there.