My Life - Original Writing Essay

money my dad gave me for ice cream, tight in my hand. I saw the group sitting outside getting ready to go.I could see myself sitting in the back on the porch, eating the delicious flurry that I was soon to order. My brother,my best friend Cassie and her two brothers along with her dad and I were going to ride our bikes through a trail off in the woods and go to Whistlestop Park and then cut through town and head to Houseman 's, an ice cream shop near our house. I quickly finished tying my shoe and

a calm wind blows on my face. Soon the day will begin . . . another long day of weaving cloth. When the machines came, we had to move to the city in Bedford, Massachusetts, and work in a factory. We tend machines all day long until we can finally hurry to sleep. Then, all too soon, the bells ring before sunrise waking up all workers. My mother works in a factory a few miles away, but she is becoming weak. My younger brother Eli works with me in a nearby textile mill, and my older brother William

I yawn and arch my back in a big stretch. I could see my breath in the air. It would be getting colder from now on. I take a look around the small hut we call home. Adam is still curled up on the old mattress, a bundle of blankets wrapped around him. Mom isn’t sleeping next to him, probably out tending the garden. It seems that’s all she’s been doing these past few months. I stand up and walk over to Adam. He is sound asleep, a small amount of drool collecting on his chin. I smile at this and grab

to go!” My sister vanessa yelled at me as I was packing the last of my things . I was fifteen and I had just arrived to my new home in Garland. I had just moved form Plainview and I was leaving my friends and family that I had grown up with behind. Moving to Garland while still in High School was one experience that changed my life. I had just finished my freshman year In high school when I had gotten the news that my mom decided to move. She decided that it was best for her and my step dad

grim gossip about my old babysitter which made me think of a particular summer morning, bookmarked in my long-term memory. During the school holidays in my ninth summer, I was lying under the garden tree, staring at a singular leaf that was eclipsing the summer sun as the zephyr tenderly blew it back and forth; giving it a seductive allure, while thinking about the previous night. Mother and father were having an agitated discussion downstairs in the living room. Sitting on my bed not able to sleep;

heavy cry, the physical cracking of my innocent heart. All things that I felt, but hid, in the summer of 2013. This was the day that my family, my world, fell apart for good. Everything was a lie, or so I was told by one party and by the other half, there were no lies. Forced to choose sides between my loved ones, I broke down and grew up in a matter of hours. The day was hot, in June or maybe even July. I had just returned from a fantastic vacation with one of my best childhood friends. We had gone

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. All the memories poured back, the hospital, hearing the words, “dear your mother and father are gone. They didn’t make it, I’m so sorry.” And now... The rain washed down my red face along with my tears. Without any sympathy the thunder and lightning bolted down on the damp earth. There I stood my black shoes sinking into the muddy ground. I lifted my blurred

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

When my son was ten years old, he asked me if I had ever been bullied before, or if I’d ever bullied anyone. I told him no! Not me! He said, “Mom, Nana told me that you were bullied, and you bullied people before, too.” I wondered if I should tell him the truth in that moment, that yes, when I was your age and younger, I was bullied, and yes, I bullied others, too. The thought that I could jeopardize my relationship with my son scared me. I could see it dwindling. The actions from my past might make

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