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.

As a kid, I was bullied a lot. I was an awkward, overweight nine-year-old how had just moved to a new school district. One out in the rural suburban area of Pittsburgh, PA.

Elementary school was supposed to be easy, right? I could say academically it was, but emotionally? No. Little kids can be just as cruel as adults. I was never the one to cause problems with anyone else, I was a quiet kid. But there’s always those mean kids in every class, and those mean kids always picked on me. Each day would get harder because of the names that they called me like “Princess Fiona” or “Miss Piggy.” They would always target my weight. I was never skinny as a kid, I was really heavy and it gave bullies an advantage to taunt me. In those moments, I felt weak and bewildered. Some kids might stand up for themselves, others would stay quiet and hurt in silence. Unfortunately, I was hurting in silence. I was young and defenseless. I didn’t know how to stand up for myself and I didn’t have the courage to because I was raised in a household where speaking up could make matters worse, and you wouldn’t be heard. This perception followed me through my whole elementary and middle school years. It impacted my childhood greatly, killing my self esteem. I was mortified and I was always alone.

Everyone knows how it feels to be exiled. No one has been in on everything they wanted to when they wanted it. I wanted everything in my life to be forced. I cannot control everything in my life not now and especially not when I was young. I tried so hard to get everything done the way I wanted it when I wanted it but then my life changed and it changed fast. When I three years old my mom and dad got divorced. After that my brother, mom, and I moved around a lot for the next two years. The neighborhoods we lived in didn’t happen to be ideal. My mom eventually got remarried when I was five. Not even a year later my father died. In this short time span I didn’t really comprehend what was going on and that I really lost my father. I didn’t

“Wake up it 's time 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.

“My lifestyle will go with me to my grave,” I thought as I took a sip of my Moscato, sitting at the bar during happy hour in Saltgrass Steak House talking on my cell phone with Akie D. “Man, I’ve been fucking up behind Ingrid’s back bro. I really don’t know what I’m going to do about my latest situation with Ingrid. I have really been acting strange lately.”

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.

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.

I was deserting everything I had, or so I had anticipated, at first. Toward the conclusion of the school year, my dad had transferred his job, but in order to do so, we had to move to Pennsylvania, first into a temporary home, then a brand new one. On the last day of school, I couldn’t stop crying goodbye to my friends and teachers. In a week, I would be breaking away from my friends, my family, my home, my cat, and many of the places I had come to grasp and enjoy in Ohio.

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.

"Mommy! Look!" I cried as I held a snowflake in my hand, as if I was holding a newborn baby.

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.

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.

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.