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.

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.

“Sweetheart? Could you possibly not 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 what he was thinking. Like an overcooked imposter of my favorite dish would immediately make me like Joanie. As if spaghetti would make me warm up to the idea of having her as my stepmother.

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.

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

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.

It was as if life was sluggishly pulling out my blooming, tender, young heart, and crushing it.

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 am awoken from my deep slumber as my roof is viciously ripped from its foundation. A bright light shines through blinding me as I am rattles and hared around like a rag,knocking into my friends and family. I hear them panicking as I 'm trying to get a glimpse of my surroundings. I caught sight of a round pot filled with what seems to be boiling water. I have only got seconds before i am dumped into the scalding hot water. “SPLASH”. I come up coughing and gasping for air,just to be pushed back to the bottom where there is no oxygen. After what seems like an entirety the skin melting water is drained out from under me as I 'm put onto a net . I am put back into the pot that I now know is prison. I try to stand,but I 'm weak tired flimsy

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.

- You sure you will be ok on your own? 3 years is a long time, if there is anything you need, don`t be afraid to call, got it?

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.