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.

I clawed at my back, trying to staunch the blood gushing from my back. I sank to the ground, writhing in pain as I was slowly surrounded by figures cloaked in black. My breathing grew ragged as they drew closer to me. I glared

A silent murmur spoke from my mother's mouth “Wait there”. I internally screamed “Wait for what? Wait for the sun to wake up this man from the dead? Wait for the news that I already seemed to know?” The ambulance came first. I couldn't hear it coming, I could only make its blurred shape through the confused darkness. I turned and didn't look back, continuing to walk away from the crash scene, not wanting to face this head

"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.

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.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I step onto the dusty gym floor. My palms are damp with perspiration. I slowly look around the room. Girls wearing headbands, shorts, and t-shirts fill the gym. Some girls wear the same nervous expression I do, and some have a look of confidence on their face. The sound of girls handling basketballs fills the gym. I walk over to the rack hesitantly and slowly reach out and grasp a basketball. The bumpy texture of the ball in my hand is familiar, and provides a sense of comfort. I look over at my sister and we head over to an empty basketball hoop. We start to shoot around, preparing for the tryouts that are moments away from starting.

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.

The message rang in my ear. I could not believe what I was hearing. My body had gone completely numb. I no longer could feel myself sitting, but only felt sharp ice cold pains that the table was sending through my body. This just can not be true. I do not have time for this. How could I have this happen to me? I wanted to speak but could not find the words. What was there to say? I sat on that cold icy table, his eyes watching with concern.

We started off with a chaste kiss, and I have to say, kissing his lips once again was one of the best feelings in the world. I started to deepen it, loving the way his lips seemed to roll against my own, and I realized as well that this was definitely the right feeling as well. I know for a fact that this is the right thing that we both needed.

Many years ago, when I was still a child, my mother would bring me to the Henan province on New Year 's Eve. Every year, my mother would bring me door-to-door to visit my relatives to greet them and to give them gifts. I would always get excited that I would be able to visit my prosthetic legged uncle, “iron man”. One night I asked him, “Uncle, why do you have a metal leg, and how do I get a metal leg like yours?” My uncle turned his head away from me, and said, "I 'll tell you one day, maybe when you get older."

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.

I’m about 13 years old, married to a 35 year old man, and pregnant with the son of God while I’m still a virgin. Yes, my life’s going great. I was a Jewish girl getting ready to marry a well-established carpenter, then a man came to me in my house and told me I was pregnant. I was shocked, because I’m only 13 and was still a virgin. Well, it happened. I conceived when the angel told me I would, went into labor on the way to Bethlehem, and gave birth in a stable because the innkeeper didn’t have any room.

It started with a single crash. Then my world fell apart. A piercing scream filled the air, one that I will never forget. It was my mother’s... Then everything went black.

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.