My Life - Original Writing

I pushed myself to my hands and knees. I glanced over my shoulder, and let out a hiccupping moan of

My heart leapt in my throat- I did my best to try and regulate my breathing so I wouldn’t give away my position with massive, choking gulps of air. Closing my eyes, I tried to re-collect blissful memories, ones that were far away from this state of affairs. I couldn’t calm down; this was so bad- what was I going to do? His steps were getting closer; they were getting louder. I panicked, I panicked.

The stone was cold and I could feel the pain swelling up inside. I took a step towards the edge, I thought to myself, “One more step and the worries would end…” if only it was that easy.

You head over towards a large flat rock and sat down on it to relax your legs from the long journey from camp. The rock was dented and smooth which made it extra comfortable to sit on.

Pressure rapidly built in my throat before releasing in only a rancid tasting burp that sent Misaka reeling back, her face twisting in a rictus of revulsion as she covered her mouth. I threw off the comforter and tried to get out, get to the bathroom, but the arms tightened around me, and a quiet, sleep distorted voice murmured nothings into my back.

The stone patiently listened lending them its strength and the essence of the stream, so that they can walk refreshed once more.

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.

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.

We were a normal family of four at first. It was my mom, dad, brother and I. We lived in a little adobe house that they made themselves. I was their first child, the oldest of two. I was born in Mexico and life there seemed simple, but as a child I couldn’t really tell when things weren’t. Things were pretty normal the first four years of my life, I was about to go to school in Mexico and I spent a lot of time with my dad and family. I was really close with my dad, we would go out together a lot, he had a bunch of CD’s in his car and he would play one and we’d sing together, and he would make me breakfast in the mornings while I watched morning cartoons. He was basically my role model in my early days, it was nice too, I really enjoyed it.

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

“Mohammed your sister is not going to leave easy. We raised her to be under our wing not out on her own. You’re brave Mohammed you need to get Bana on that plane and keep her going so that she can live a long happy life even though we are not in that life. Will you do that for me?” My father said to me. Me and my father were never close with him working and all, but this was the first time I actually felt like we knew each other.

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 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.

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.