My Memories - Original Writing

It was uplifting seeing my community and those from different towns marching the streets to stop the resistance. I saw them coming up behind me and my face lit up, these are my people, I thought. The sun was shining down as if it was lighting a path for these courageous people. But as they reached the end of the bridge that sunny path was suddenly gone and every smile turned to stone. I looked forward to continue my way to work when I was told to turn around. “It would

Throughout history, there have been a number of momentous changes in the world. Many of us have witnessed, or even been a part of, some of these changes. We may find ourselves assuming that it takes hundreds of thousands of people to come together to make any kind of difference. However, as Margaret Mead states, a “small group of thoughtful, committed citizens” can change the world. One of the greatest, most notable changes in America began with a few incredible citizens who took a stand and fought bravely for what they believed in. Beginning with Claudette Colvin and Rosa Parks’ infamous refusal to adhere to the southern custom of blacks having to sit in the back of the bus in 1955 and Martin Luther King Jr.’s strong leadership and speaking

I've been here three days, and every morning this has happened, I'm forced to remember my mother's death and all the feelings that had come with it, all over again. "Yeah, um, it is." I tell her. A warm tear falls slowly down my freckled cheek, hits my lips and spreads across my mouth. I'm so tired of her persistent nagging, that perhaps I'll leave the house today. I could go on a walk or something,

I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.

My mother didn’t want me to go anywhere; she wanted me to be safe at home with her. We’d lived through the months of anticipation and planning together, and she’d shared my anguish at the end. I’d watched dry eyed as she folded small garments in tissue paper to take to the charity shop, her hands shaking, and listened to her weeping in the kitchen when she thought I wouldn’t

Have you ever lived in a time period that was just so miserable for over half the population of the state? Where people were judged for something that they can’t help, for things that are uncontrollable. I have, I did. And because I grew up in a world like this, I wanted to do something about it. I was arrested for my involvement in civil rights movements, for other reasons, all these reasons are what pushed me to do what I did. They pushed me to stand up for what I believed in; I did and I changed things forever. This is the story of how I did it, why I did it.

I would cry each night. I’d cry as if it was the only thing I could do. I’d cry because it was my only comfort. Consoling myself through tears, I would come across thoughts that gave me hope for a better future. But as soon as these thoughts reached my head, my mother’s words would drive them all way.

I couldn 't believe what had just happened. I kept running, breathing out of control. My feet were sore and my lungs were aching. Tree branches were scraping my arms as I ran past them. Urging myself to keep on going. It was too late to look back now. I was running for my freedom and nothing was going to stop me. Not the sharp twigs stabbing at my feet as I ran or the misty fog blocking my clear path ahead. Nothing. It was really going to happen. All I needed to do was make it through the trees and onto a road. I couldn 't give up no matter what.

Memories flash through my mind, thoughts of how life was before they came and took over. My mind wanders, passing from one memory to another before stopping on one - my family, more specifically, my wife. Her name was Lindsey Way, formerly known as Lindsey Ballato. She was a goddess on Earth; there were absolutely no words to describe her beauty. I 'm actually surprised she decided to marry me, a recovering alcoholic and someone who had too many anxiety attacks to count and was depressed at times. I still think she 's too good for me; she was perfect and even gave birth to a daughter that was just as good as her, Bandit Lee Way, but she was taken from me, just like Lindsey. I feel tears begin to prick my eyes and a sharp stabbing pain

Every night I’m haunted by my worst memory/memories. I’ve been haunted by them for a year and six months.

Every day starts the same… seemingly insignificant. You wake up and you follow a certain routine, preparing for the day ahead. Just like any other day I woke up or should I say was woken up by my dad, for I was only seven years old. Looking back at this point in my life it all is very unclear and fuzzy, still young and naïve, all the days morph into one. This day however, was unlike any other day. This day is burned into my memory. My dad, like every single other morning, walked into me and my sister’s bedroom and pulled off the covers from our bed because nothing wakes you up faster than sudden rush of cool air on a November morning. My sister and I trudged to the kitchen where our dinosaur egg hot cereal was awaiting our arrival. Something about that moment, sitting there in my house, a very typical morning stays clear and bold in my mind. It seemed so normal, but at the same time so distant. A moment so typical, but how long does normal remain normal? Breakfast was followed by getting changed for school and then the trip to school. The school day sped by, no different than any other, but the knowledge of a playdate with my best friend after school took up the majority of my thoughts. The bell rang and we lined up, ready to head home. We walked down the hill to my mother, ready to pick us up and bring us back to my house. The excitement could not be contained and the car was filled with innocent and unaware giggles, for the worst thing that could ever happen would be the

I wake up to the smell of grass, the rustling leaves and the sound of nature. As I open my eyes I can see the clouds moving through the sky while I lay on the ground.

I awoke to find myself being tortured by sharp pains forming all across my body, as thoughts of panic rambled through my mind. I anxiously looked around the bare room, illuminated by a single row of light bulbs. My heart began to beat rapidly as I tried to find any object that would spark my remembrance of my location.

Now, lemme tell you about this one thing I experienced...three years ago. Still haunts my memory. I used to work as a mortician. A person whom works to dissect bodies to either prepare the bodies for an autopsy, or for a burial. Of course, I was only a helper, passing tools. To of which begins my story.

I can 't feel where I am; my body feels cold. My legs feel numb and then I remember the glass and throwing it across the room. It 's all my fault things ended up like this, I could have dealt with it like I 've done before. My muscles tense because of how cold it is even though I can tell I 've been sweating. I turn up the thermometer and go upstairs to my room where it 's warmer.