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.

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

"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.

Most nights, I would quickly and effortlessly fall asleep after a good meal and shower, but for some reason I found it very difficult to sleep this night. I tossed and turned part of the night and at other times lying there staring at the ceilings. Although I was sleepless, I was aware that I wanted a change in my life. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, I just knew that a change in scenery and lifestyle would be great for me now.

I snuggled into something soft yet hard. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to adjust the brightness that was coming from the window. I rubbed my eyes. I looked around to see me in our room, on the bed.

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 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.

It was a normal day in Paoli, me and my mom were walking to EL Compadres from the library. My brother was currently going to his band competition, and my sister was out horseback riding with her friends. As we walked by the new deck a small chubby kid with a face full of ugly smudged freckles waddled out of El Compadres and stabbed me with a vial of green liquid. He yelled “ Get out of my way!” and smacked me in the face. My mom grabbed his arm and swung him onto the ground. He cursed at us got up and ran off.

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.

Oh, my God, my Heavenly Father, here I stand a broken daughter. Lord, hear my plea and lend Your ear. You knit me together in my mother’s womb, knowing what mistakes Your daughter would make . You made me who I am, and knew me before the world even began, your scriptures say that even before the world knew me, you knew each strand on my golden head . You knew me, and yet I have stumbled bruised and bloodied into Your throne room. I am unfit, to even been in Your presence, but even in the darkest, sin induced coma, you have spoken my name with tender love, and yet here my story is in ink.

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 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.

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.