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.

"Catherine Nicole! Wake up right this minute!" I hear my mother shout from downstairs. I slide out of my bed and fix my hair to the best of my ability then walk over to my vanity and look in the mirror. I see a dark, cloaked figure huddled in the corner of my room and quickly turn around to see that the mysterious figure is gone.

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.

After talking to the three sisters about her future and making a wish she wanted to know if it would actually come true she thought on it for a bit and walked home. When she walked home she thought about how tired she was of this place and she could not wait longer. When she got home Nenny was off playing in her room parents doing house work so she walked in her room grabbed her backpack and started packing. Okay so I need clothes, money, journal, and food to start me off she goes and gets all of things ready and walks out while her family is distracted. She walks past the four tall trees and says nothing only her thoughts, past the trees and into the city where there are new exciting things she has never experienced before there are fast

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.

I have never been more scared in my entire life. I’ve seen it in movies but it’s never happened in real life. I can actually see it with my own eyes. We all saw it and we even have evidence.

As a child, I always used to think that my parents were indestructible. In my eyes, there was absolutely nothing that could hurt them. Obviously, there is no logic behind this preposterous belief, yet I still felt that way for almost a decade of my life. Unfortunately, my idealistic views came to an end when I was nine years old. My father, who was always some sort of superhero in my life, was diagnosed with end stage renal failure in the summer of 2006. All of a sudden, my super hero didn’t seem so indestructible anymore.

I was deserting everything I had, or so I had anticipated, at first. Toward the conclusion of the school year, my dad had transferred his job, but in order to do so, we had to move to Pennsylvania, first into a temporary home, then a brand new one. On the last day of school, I couldn’t stop crying goodbye to my friends and teachers. In a week, I would be breaking away from my friends, my family, my home, my cat, and many of the places I had come to grasp and enjoy in Ohio.

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.

One summer morning around about nine AM I was sound asleep, however until I smelled an unfamiliar odor and not sure what it was I paid it no mind. Before I could get up and wash my face my mother pushed my room door open yelling INDYA GET UP THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!! I jumped up. Our house isn’t but so big, so when I ran out my room, I saw the flames coming out of the kitchen. My first thought was my little brother; his room is straight through the kitchen. My mom then said my brother was not in his room. It was my little cousin; I could barely breathe so I ran outside. Forgetting my phone in the house I quickly go in the house, grab my phone run out of the house. Now let me tell you about this life changing experience.

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.

was thinking about the stuff I needed to bring from home when suddenly, a coughing sound caught my attention. Feeling contented, I threw a quick glance at my father. To my disappointment, he was still on his bed motionless with only his chest faintly moving up and down. The continuous wheezing noise that he was making clearly revealed his breathing difficulty. I felt dejected. It hurt me to see him in this much pain.

In late autumn, the wiltering sullen trees stood deathly still under the dark, gray sky, held their frail, tired limbs by their sides and reached out to receive nothing but cold harsh winds. Beneath the barely noticeable shrubs and brushes was the cold hard soil, in which red, brown , yellow, and orange leaves spread across the entire ground as far as I could see. On some trees, not a single leaf was found. They lay across on the earth too weak to get up. The car sped quickly through piles of leaves making them fly into the air.

Recently, I heard some rather grim gossip about my old babysitter which made me think of a particular summer morning, bookmarked in my long-term memory.