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.

It was hard to breathe. Our power was flickering on and off. My sister was in bed. I was helping my mom find what we needed to leave. We grabbed blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, drawers from our dressers, pictures (with their frame), our hanging clothes, toys, and my sister’s baby swing.

Memories flash through my mind, thoughts of how life was before they came and took over. My mind wanders, passing from one memory to another before stopping on one - my family, more specifically, my wife. Her name was Lindsey Way, formerly known as Lindsey Ballato. She was a goddess on Earth; there were absolutely no words to describe her beauty. I 'm actually surprised she decided to marry me, a recovering alcoholic and someone who had too many anxiety attacks to count and was depressed at times. I still think she 's too good for me; she was perfect and even gave birth to a daughter that was just as good as her, Bandit Lee Way, but she was taken from me, just like Lindsey. I feel tears begin to prick my eyes and a sharp stabbing pain

Everyone knows how it feels to be exiled. No one has been in on everything they wanted to when they wanted it. I wanted everything in my life to be forced. I cannot control everything in my life not now and especially not when I was young. I tried so hard to get everything done the way I wanted it when I wanted it but then my life changed and it changed fast. When I three years old my mom and dad got divorced. After that my brother, mom, and I moved around a lot for the next two years. The neighborhoods we lived in didn’t happen to be ideal. My mom eventually got remarried when I was five. Not even a year later my father died. In this short time span I didn’t really comprehend what was going on and that I really lost my father. I didn’t

My palms were as sweaty and heart was in my throat. My mom and I were currently at Hartsfield Jackson Airport, waiting for his arrival. I knew my mom was feeling as nervous as me because she almost ran someone over this morning. She was boring holes into the sliding glass doors, as if she glared hard enough, it would open. I held my breath as I saw the doors slide open, only to sigh when I saw a woman with Wal-Mart on her luggage cart. After a few dozen people, a 5’6 male figure with a pair of jeans, blue t-shirt, and socks and sandals made his way over to us after my mom basically yelled out, ”Bao!”, his name, and waved like her life depended on it. He’s here, my older brother.

“Sweetheart? Could you possibly not glare at Joanie like that?” My father asked cautiously in the middle of dinner. I hadn’t even noticed that I was doing it, it just became a habit after awhile. I looked down at my plate, still full with spaghetti crowding around my small portion of meatballs. Not that I was going to eat any of it. Usually, I would have finished it all by now, but that was before my mother’s spaghetti recipe had been contaminated by Joanie’s attempt to recreate it. Though it had been my father’s idea, I don’t know what he was thinking. Like an overcooked imposter of my favorite dish would immediately make me like Joanie. As if spaghetti would make me warm up to the idea of having her as my stepmother.

The purpose of this paper is to learn about our own development by looking back on experiences we had while using vocabulary words throughout the chapters.

I woke up with my curly blonde hair covering my face. I quickly swept my hair away from my face into a ponytail and stood up. It 's too early, I thought as I looked over to my clock. It was 7:13 a.m and I was already done with today. I knew the bus must 've been close, because my sister wasn 't in our room sleeping. Guess I better get ready, I realized. I quickly rummaged through my small closet, filled halfway with little frilly dresses owned by my sister. Finding a nice shirt and pair of pants was harder than I thought. Finally, I had found a tie dye shirt with the saying "good vibes" on the front and a pair of white jean shorts. I changed into them quickly before my sister burst into our room.

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 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.

I was thirteen, my ribs and neck were bruised, so i had covered them in make-up. My body trembling with anxiety, it’s only been two days; my mom is finally coming to get me. I knew that, eventually, this would happen again, that he would never stop. I had to get out somehow, someway and I would. My mom was my way out but only at first.

I wake up and think I am in our old house in the in the farm lands. The sun is beaming through the window from rolling, green hills outside, and I can smell my mom’s cooking of watery beans and potatoes wafting through the house. Soon the day will begin, a long day, of weaving and mending cloth. When the machines came, we were no longer fast enough for the demands of cloth. We were forced to move to the city and work in a factory, where we tend machines all day long until the day is over, and with our very bones crying , we hurry to bed. Then, dinging the bells ring at 4:00 AM to wake up the working class of the city.I can hear the bells now and I must get up. I’m so sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is Edward. I am almost fifteen and work at a factory in the city. They call me the man of the house because my father is very ill. Next to me, on the pile of straw we share, are my younger brother, Tommy, my other younger sister, Jeanette, and my mother, Elizabeth. My mother works in a factory that makes parts for cars with my sister, Jeanette. She is only 30, but already her hair is patched with grey. Rumor says that she is soon to be widowed just like many others in this haunted place , I nearly hurl at the thought. Last week, my father came down with the spotted fever. I can see him from here; he is sweating, his body aching from the fever. I pray that someone will take care of him today, we don’t have the time or money to take him to a hospital. Next

“This is the end” she sobbed as her bottom lip twitched. After two years and ten months, she no longer wants me in her life. It should have been a rainy night as we stood in the middle of a dark alleyway on the way back to her parents’ house. I stare at her like my soul was just taken out of my body and take a deep, quivering breath. I turned cold, like my heart stopped pumping warm blood around my veins and instead thrust ice-cold toxic water as it burns my insides.

I should have stopped him, I knew he was too young, his body; too weak, his brain; not smart enough but I still let him go. His mother, Mrs. Robert’s had made the mistake to trust me with her only child, Cameron. I regret what happened to him, he was just an innocent five years old, full of energy and curiosity that I used against him. I wish I could take it all back but I can’t because that poor child is already dead. Only because I let the evil inside me run free and chained the conscience to the back of my brain. That one decision will haunt me for the rest of my life.

All children would do anything to have a pet, I had it, but I had to endure the heat, mosquitoes and tiredness, even so my happiness did not last long. It was early morning in my home town Guayana city. My dad was preparing the car with enthusiasm, he had a happy expression on his face. I knew why, because we were going to do his favorite activity; Go fishing. Even with 10 years old I could notice how happy everyone was at that moment.