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My Life - Original Writing

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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.
You would expect the normal family to have loving parents, and two kids who get along just great, well my family isn’t your average. You see, my brother and I were separated at a young age. After my parents divorced, I, along with my mom, went to America and he stayed in Vietnam, with our dad and the rest of our family. So when he arrived here I America, I could sense we had a loss of connection, unlike most other siblings, but I was determined to create a healthy sibling bond with my brother, one that I didn’t have around most of my childhood. What I didn’t know was that it was going to be one bumpy beginning. When we made our way back to our apartment, I showed him around the house, the neighborhood, how to turn on the desktop, and to his room, which was my old room. My mom wanted him
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