My First Day In My Life

“Moving again?!” I exclaimed. My mom had announced this at the end of the month of February. Throughout my fourteen years of life, I could not keep count with my fingers of how many times we have moved. On the other hand, I understood her decision to move from Birch Bay to Bellingham. Besides, my brother and I were going to school there and all our friends were there, too. Not to mention the drastic change in our family’s way of life, after a couple of months of hauling us from one place to another, on top of my mom working a full-time job, everything was way harder for her especially now that she is a single parent. One late night during one of our many hauls to home, I was suddenly awakened from an emergency maneuver my mom made to

Like some people I haven’t lived in Ramona my whole life, I lived in Evanston Wyoming for about seven years. Then in 2010 I moved out here at the end of summer, which meant the day I was dreading came very fast, the first day of 3rd grade at a new school. Being the new kid, I was nervous and shy and didn't have any idea how I would introduce myself, but lucky for me someone introduced herself first. “Hi, I’m Michaela!” said the girl, who would soon become my best friend and still is to this day. Michaela Brooke Meskell broke the ice and started talking to me and made me feel a little less nervous on the first day of my new life and that’s when our friendship began. I have known her for seven years now and is one of best friends. She is a pretty, tall, skinny 15 year old girl with long straight brown hair, brown eyes and glasses. She runs cross country and track, does very well in school and likes art and YouTube. Michaela was my very first friend when I moved here and over the last seven years I’ve gotten to know so much about her. She’s artistic, humorous, kind, intelligent, loyal and so many more amazing things. I’m so grateful to have her in my life and hope to still have her with me in the future.

One early morning thirteen years ago, my parents had gone off to go to work. I would be upstairs watching Zoboomafoo in my room and I could hear the door slam shut from my room on the second floor. It was a couple of weeks before I had started my first day in Kindergarten. My uncle Francisco, who was nineteen years old, was taking care of my little brother Luis, who was two, and I; I was five years old. Once my parents would step out the door it all began. My uncle would start acting really immature. At first, he would take us to the downstairs room that was by the kitchen and would start yelling for no reason. You could not really hear much from the room, which is why I assumed he took us there. Luis was the youngest, so he was an easy target. He didn't say much nor defended himself because he didn't really know what was happening. The yelling would frighten my little brother. My uncle would scream “ no one likes you” and “ no one cares about you” at Luis, which really hurt his feelings. Luis would just stay quiet and pout.

My mind was moving too fast. It was as if it was waiting patiently for the call to end to pounce. I was in the living room of my home peering through the window, mesmerized by the little flourishes dancing from the sky when I got the call. My thigh jiggled as my phone vibrated on my lap; it was a call from my mother. It was supposed to be like any other call. I would answer, we would talk, and it would end with I love you and I would go on with my day. Only this wasn’t any other call. On November 9th, 2013 I heard the greatest news and it was on that same day, I was confronted by my worst enemy. The phone call ended, and my joy was soon turned against me. I was too distracted to notice that this joy was merely heartache in disguise. I would have never in a million years believe that something so cruel could bring forth someone so beautiful.

My first time at the lake I can remember it like it was yesterday. It had a teardrop-silver color to it, and from where I was standing I couldn’t see anything but miles and miles of water. As if it never ended. I could feel the wind as it blew my new hair do, and caressed my cheekbones. The air smelled of fresh water and the sand was soft between my toes. The scene was magnificent, and the only sound was birds chirping from afar. I think back to the smell of the fresh cut grass and the way the sun was shining bright in the clear blue sky. I remember running to the water bending down to take a sip, it was beautiful I just knew it had to taste as good as it looked. Most of all I can remember it being relaxing and beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to get started on our first weekend at the lake with my family.

I don’t remember much about when I was a kid. One memory slips through the fog and caresses my mind with the comforting aura that was once my childhood. It was my first day at Mrs. Joyce’s Daycare, little did I know that this place would forever hold a special place in my heart and in my mind. On the way there, from my house in Terra Alta, it was about a 5-minute ride which was just long enough to think about all the things that my little mind could think about. Namely how I was going to get along with the other kids and whether I would make any friends.

When I was about seven or eight years old my aunt Melissa was watching me and she got a phone call and they said that both of my parents had died in a car crash so since she had just moved into the small town of Oceanside or so that is what she told me she could raise me as her own so that’s what she did, she did it all on her own. I started school at Oceanside elementary school and I was super nervous when I walked in the door I saw a girl sitting all alone so I decided to go sit with her and I did her name was Chloe and from then on we were best friends. The day we started high school was probably the last normal day of our lives until junior year.

After what seemed like the longest day of my life, I got home from school – the most dreadful place imaginable to the average teenager – and lugged myself as well as my backpack full of heavy books and overdue assignments through the front door of my apartment. Not being able to take another step, I dropped my bag and the weight of a long strenuous day off my shoulders and crawled into the living room. There I lied trying not to think about the mountain of homework I had yet to finish, all while my body searched for the tiniest shred of energy to get up, dust myself off, and continue with the rest of my day. Not even a few seconds went by when suddenly, I heard a loud, “YOU’VE GOT MAIL!” booming from my computer speakers. As if rising from

“I need a picture of you guys!” My mom expressed in much excitement. As I walked to the front door, my seventh grade sister and I took our annual first-day-of-the-school-year photo. With bright smiles on our faces, I was looking forward to the next stage of my life: highschool. As I stepped out of the car, my dad remained there as he watched his son start his highschool career. I walked in the doors for the first time as a highschooler. A rush of excitement and a sliver of nervousness hit me. People of all ages are walking past me. Grown men a head taller than me and attractive girls that did not know that I existed were everywhere. One of my childhood friends came by me and we waved to each other. I could see in his face the same jittery

As an infant on my mother’s hips lying against her shoulder at the airport, it never crossed my mind that things in my life were certainly never going to be the same in the year to come. My very first time at the airport was with my mom when I was eleven days old. I was more than likely kicking, wailing, and sobbing, trying to do anything I could to get her attention because I was a terrible baby. After finally getting me settled down, we were able to saunter right up to my grandma’s gate to meet her. It was the very first time she met me. She was so excited to see me because I was the first girl to be born in our immediate family (my mom, my dad, my older brother, and I). The next time I was in an airport was after I got off a plane to

On a scorching hot summer day my life changed immensely. The day was August 13, 2013 and specifically the first day of my freshman year of high school. Thrilled to learn home economics (my next class), I slammed the organized locker shut, and ran down two flights of stairs onto the ground level where my class took place. I turned the corner and stopped; seeing as students lined up grabbing papers off of a shelf. For a certain reason, I turned my head and, consequently, began staring. While grabbing the papers, I could not prevent myself from gawking at the utmost, stunning object I had ever seen.

Many people can look at me and not really know what I have been through. Women all over have the same struggle as I do and slowly but surely progress is being made. The first day I met him was what I thought was a great day. I was employed, young, and carefree. We had only gotten to know each other over a weeks time, but we were stuck like glue. It was a young love, a new love. After two weeks it went from seeing each other everyday, to me visiting him twice a week, behind a thick glass pane. The jail was a cold and unfriendly place. But I was there through thick and thin. After a year of truly getting to know each other he was back out in the world, with me. At first everything was fun and upbeat, but then I learned I was pregnant. It was no big deal, we planned it. We were expecting and although it was my first, it was his second. My pregnancy was filled with ups and downs. More ups than downs though. Then our baby girl was born. I won the coin toss so I got to name her. Our first babygirl, I know I was proud.

I open my eyes and examine the clock. It’s 6:01 and I turn the faucet to the shower on. I step into the shower and I feel the warm water running down my back. I finish up showering and I dry off. I walk back to my room and I look back in forth in my closet looking for a shirt. I grab a pair of black shorts and a blue shirt. I head back into the bathroom and get ready. I style my hair, brush my teeth, and put on some deodorant. I head downstairs for a bowl of cereal and by the time I finish eating it’s 6:48. The bus comes in 12 minutes, so I get my bag ready and I fill up a water bottle with some tea. I begin to walk out the door and I instantly regret wearing shorts. It’s chilly, but soon my arms and legs adjust to it. Right as I get to

Now let’s go to June 7,1979 that is my birthday I was born as Jabari Toins and I

My day started like any other. I looked out the window and saw the beautiful clear and sunny sky in Miami, Florida. I lived there. It is always sunny and there is never a dull day. After I looked out the window I got dressed and went downstairs. I ate pancakes and bacon for breakfast. I packed my bag and started walking to school.