My Life - Original Writing

Seven years earlier, I migrated to Hawaii when I was twenty-three. I had flown away from my mother and my life in the Philippines. Like young adults and being rebellious, I wanted to live on my own away from my mother 's roof. I left the city life I grew up with in the Philippines in hope of a better life in another country.

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.

My friends cheerfully laugh as they start piling into Brett’s car. Today is my eighteenth birthday, and because now everyone in our friend group has hit this milestone, they decided that we should all go get tattoos. Brett wants and eagle on his arm, Jessica wants a butterfly on her back, and Ashley wants the word “Love” around her ankle. But as for me, I have absolutely no clue what I want.

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 gently crept out of my bedroom and tiptoed past my parents’, to make sure they were asleep. Satisfied with hearing two sets of snoring, I scuttled backwards and shut my door quietly. My heart was already racing. I could hear my pulse pounding in my head. Quietly as possible, I pulled my jeans and boots on and slid my window open. That alone probably took two whole minutes. The window was squeaky unless you slid it up just right.

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.

A few years ago, I finally decided to have the have the guts and ask my mom the question I had been wanting to ask her. Growing up I had strict parents but not that strict as if I were a prisoner in my own home. Almost every parent appear to be strict others on the other hand are not strict. Entering high school would be the most scariest chapter in my life, I going to meet several new people in my life. Biting my nails as I’m walking in on my first day of highschool, I turn my head left and right as if I were an owl. Seeing every girl looking like they are barbie dolls or Miss Universe. All the girls with their fresh makeup done like a professional makeup artist did their makeup while I am looking like a dead rat. My mother never allowed me to wear makeup for the reason being that I’d get acne.

I yawn and arch my back in a big stretch. I could see my breath in the air. It would be getting colder from now on. I take a look around the small hut we call home.

The winter breeze swept across the ground as I made my way up the hill. The walk home always seemed to calm me. It was the green grass, stretching into the distance and past the horizon, the depth of it was captivating. The trees in the distance swayed in the wind, I used to imagine they were waving to me. The papers in my hand were slowly flapping, as if to show off the big red writing of “100%” scribbled on the front. A humble grin took shaped on my face, but at the same time, I noticed the quick beats of my heart, the tingling in my stomach and the way my fingers slid down my sweaty hands as my fist clenched. I was thinking about the way my parents would react. Things were finally settling down, I really didn’t want to be the one to

I can 't feel where I am; my body feels cold. My legs feel numb and then I remember the glass and throwing it across the room. It 's all my fault things ended up like this, I could have dealt with it like I 've done before. My muscles tense because of how cold it is even though I can tell I 've been sweating. I turn up the thermometer and go upstairs to my room where it 's warmer.

A nudge was administered to my shoulder as my eyes crept open. Slowly, a giant man came into my line of sight. He was a tall man with a thick beard and a toothy smile. Between the fold of his lips was a burning piece of cancer puffing out clouds of smoke. Coughing, I bolted up from the metal bed, looking at the mammoth of a man. He started to chuckle while blowing out more smoke. The room filled with laughter as I noticed the other four tattooed men around the room.

If there was one word to describe me in middle school it was “tomboy.” Although I was in dance class and cheered, I loved playing sports. I enjoyed getting rough and rowdy in the backyard with my brother and being the only girl in the neighborhood that the boys let on their team during pick-up games. However, my girlfriends would often comment, “Emily, you’ll never be cool by playing sports,” and “Beating the boys will never make you popular or get you a boyfriend.” At the time their comments didn’t matter. It was what I enjoyed doing. Then came high school and all of a sudden it was clear I had two options. I could listen to my friends and tried to become one of the cool girls and just cheer, or I could continue to pursue my

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

I wake up thinking I am in our old house in the countryside. The sun streams through the window across the rolling hills, and a calm wind blows on my face. Soon the day will begin . . . another long day of weaving cloth.

This is what my life has become. Full of rage, anger and jealousy. Yes, I’m jealous. Jealous of a man I have never met, but it’s fair because he tried to steal what belongs to me. How dare he? He is nobody; he has nothing under his name. He thought he could go against me. Challenge me. He even had the audacity to refuse the money I gave him. He said he wasn’t that type of person, that he had morals. He is so stupid, now he has no money and nothing to steal from me. I made sure of that.