My Story : My Favorite Kind Of Story

My story started one night i was sleeping in my bedroom i woke up around 2:00 am and

Everywhere we went my mom would say hello to somebody she knew. My sister and I would hide behind my mom, grabbing her by her jeans or each other in nervousness and we did not want my mom’s friend to see us. We would only come out when my mom would tell us to come forward and greet. My sister and I would look at each other before we said hi. The only times when we weren’t shy were when we would see our cousins. We would run up to them and try to play. My two or three year old body would try hard to keep its balance as I ran through the tan, dark, colored dirt road. I would often trip then fall on my face and cry. My mom would always scream at us” Que les dije woe no corran!”, “Didn’t I tell you not to run?” but we never listened. We were happy to run free getting our shoes dirty in the process and it gave me much joy to see people we knew everyday. Aunts and uncles would come over to our house and the smells of the frijoles, rice, nopales and sometimes meat cooking on the stove would fill the house. Lunch and Dinner were both eaten as a family, and tortillas were something you could not live without. With all the people and kids in the house you could see the dark muddy footprints all over the white tiles of the living room, and you could follow the footsteps into the kitchen.

“Let’s just start with the day you lost your sister,” the policeman encouraged the boy on. “The day I lost her, or the day I doomed her?” The boy couldn’t bare to lift his head more than an inch out of his hands. The tears have stung his cheeks since the day he lost her. “Time she was captured, boy, just describe the time she was taken,” he insisted, pushing a glass of water to me. Taking time to gather all the thoughts spilling and doing backflips in my mind, I start my story.

I remember when I was a little girl around four I woke up in my room to the sun. It was spring time on a Saturday and it was just me and my mom at home. When I woke up I immediately went looking for my mom knowing she was around somewhere. I checked in the kitchen and living room but it was empty and quiet. After doing that I decided to check the basement, which as a kid is the worst place to be all alone, however for some reason I felt like she was down there washing clothes because where else could she have gone. I traveled down the stairs slowly and scaredly. As I was walking down the basement stairs I passed the sunny door leading to the backyard and all of the sunlight that came from the door was lighting up the basement making it look welcoming and not so cold and dark. I then heard the washing machine turn on and that's when I knew she was there and decided to pass through the dimly lit basement to the laundry room where she was. When I approached her she turned around and seen that I was up and said “Good morning I washed Mrs. Bear ”. Mrs. Bear was a white bear with a brown threaded nose and two black eyes that I had been given by my mother. Mrs. Bear would always get dirty fast and as a little kid I cared about her alot so when I heard my mom saying she washed her I was ecstatic. I looked up to see Mrs. Bear sitting on the ledge of the small basement window, her white fur glowing from the sun, looking almost brand new. My mom brought her down for me and immediately

Bored and tired of doing a ton of chores was how my day began. It was a sunny day in Mexico, and the sun’s rays were making me melt. I decided to go for a ride on the bikes with my cousins. My grandmother was in charge of me and my uncle was our neighbor. My uncle Joaquin was like a second father to me so I knew he was going to let her daughter Alondra go out for a ride on the bikes. Alondra was my cousin; she was a funny looking 6 year old girl because she had about 5 ugly horse teeth. I was 8 years old with both of my front teeth missing. Moreover, we got on the bikes and my day started getting better until Kevin came. He was 16 years old and he was a jerk who loved to be in trouble. His presence bothered me and his teeth full of tartar would make me feel disgusted.

It was a friday afternoon the sky was bright blue the sun was shining bright yellow and I Zack Allen was about to go to work he said by to his mom and dad.by’’said mom. I went out the door, I never get to work on time. I work as a junior detective. When I got to work, I almost got fired because I was late. After work i frowned. I wish i was faster.”I said. When I got home something amazing happened. I came home opened the door then ran up steers jumped on my bed and stared at my pet fish. Then a big storm came. I got out of bed and then looked out the window, sing nothing but a dosty shade of black. Suddenly my rofe flow open and a bright big blue lightning bolt strock me. I past out for a few hours. The next thing I know i was rushed to the hospital. My heart started beating very fast then it stopped for a minute, then started beating again.

I definitely owe a huge portion of who I am today to my mom, Elyse Boston. She’s been by my side through everything and has taught me so much about life. My mom played basketball at Kansas State University for four years, so she knows the game like the back of her hand, so when I wanted to play basketball, she decided she would coach. Having my mom as a coach and taking criticism from her at a young age was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do because when we were at practice or playing in a game she wasn’t “mom” she was “coach”. I had to program my brain to always say “okay, coach” instead of “I know, mom.” At first, it was really hard because it felt like every time I made a mistake because she would call me out on it when other girls would make the same mistake and she would just let it go. I didn’t understand why she was so hard on me compared to the rest of my teammates. I would get so frustrated with her and I would roll my eyes sometimes; I learned really quick rolling my eyes was really disrespectful and I eventually learned to break that habit. Now, I’m a college athlete and the last thing I will do is roll my eyes at a coach, teacher, or any adult because my mom taught me how disrespectful that was and I see people roll their eyes and I see how bad that looks and I am so grateful my mom taught me how to be respectful. Even if I had to learn the hard way.

My story starts with a fourth grade classroom, three 9 year old girls, a love for writing, and one fantasy world. You can fill in the three unnamed 9 year old girls with the names Lilly, Tori, and Destiney. We were unstoppable. Together we dominated the fourth grade, in and outside the classroom. Every recess after lunch we would head out back behind our elementary school to what we called “The Trees.” It was literally just 10 or 12 trees spread out over a large yard, but to us, it became a vast world full of unicorns, leprechauns, and other magical beings. The three of us never failed at always coming up with exhilarating adventures, taking us to our magical land.

July 17, what should have been a normal day, but was far from normal. I woke up in my brothers room after falling asleep the day watching a movie with my brother Dalton and his “friend”. When I woke up it wasn’t the same as always, I woke up to hands touching me. During the time I was only 12 years old so I didn’t really understand what was happening until about 5 minutes later. When I finally realized what was happening I didn’t know what to do since it was getting worse. It started with hands on top of my clothes but it soon turned into way more when he put his hands down my shorts, and up my shirt. My brother was sound asleep beside me so I tried to wake him up, I tried to be as quiet as a mouse because my brothers “friend” thought I was asleep and I was scared if I moved to much he would hurt me even more. After about 10 minutes of me trying to wake up my brother and failing I quickly started to lose hope. Not knowing what to do anymore I turned my head to the left, towards my brother and started silently crying and during all of this the assault was still going on. But, little did I know it was far from over because he kept touching me for more long grueling minutes while I laied there dying a little bit more inside every second. Then, it happened a spark of hope, my little brother Logan came downstairs to wake us all up and tell us breakfast was read. Little did I know my brothers “friend” would shut that down right away by saying “Shh, she’s

My story began like most in America. I was born to very Christian loving parents who were hardworking, family oriented people. My father was a military man, my mother worked odd jobs and was a homemaker. My young life started with turmoil due to my early childhood diagnosis of Dyslexia. I was hyperactive and was required to take medication and attend special education classes. My attitude towards learning was compromised because it was a constant struggle. My parents did all they could to help me along. We were a military family and I spent years overseas while my father served in the United States Army.

Death is the thing you hear and known about but never truly know until you face it. I never thought death would frighten me until I was looking at my mom in the hospital; her face bruised from going unconscious and hitting the floor from what the doctors diagnosed her with “unclassified cardiomyopathy”. Death not only caused me to worry for my family, but also even made me worry for my future. With almost losing a special person, I realized that life can suddenly be taken from you. Life is valuable and should not be taken for granted and to savor everything.

I was smiling ear from ear when I found out some very unexpected news that my mom had just told me. Me, my sister, and my brother were called into the living room by my mom, I guess she had some important news to tell us. It was a normal day so far at the Decker house, besides some of our craziness. I did not know that my life would change forever in an instant, something I would have never imagined. I did not know that this moment in time would be one of the most important moments to have happened to me.

“Piss it out like a fire rocket!” She screamed, while repeatedly slamming the bathroom door open and closed. I was 16 years old when I sat on that toilet. Eyes wide, full of bright ideas; like the one that led me to try out Marine Corps boot camp. The drill instructor in front of me showed no mercy, standing tall and proud, Sergeant Gidean had Marine Corps in her blood. As I sat there, pants around my knees, I thought I would never pee again. How could I ever amount to a person with such courage and tenacity? Often joking with myself that I had developed Stockholm Syndrome, I yearned to be like the woman who was screaming at me, and gain her approval in every way. For two weeks we lived in the same bug filled barracks together, marching side by side, pursuing some form of self-improvement. Okay, maybe that last part was just me. But we were both so different from one another, and yet I found resemblance between us. A resemblance that kept me calm, that said “she’s human too.” But the difference that kept me motivated to change and be a better person.

Arya’s toes sink in the soft carpet as she runs down the stairs. The smell of breakfast fill her nose with joy.

My Story….. When I was about the age of 6 years old maybe seven. I was sexually assaulted. I was at an elementary school which I will call Tree School for right now. So I had a family friend who I will call “James”. James and I were okay friends I guess. I was kind of a tomboy so I loved boxing and wrestling with boys. One day when I went to James house. We were wrestling and we decided to go upstairs because James had gotten a train for his birthday. So I went upstairs with him and asked to play with the train. At that time I didn’t really like barbies and stuff and this train was known as more of a boys kind of train but that’s not the point. Anyways so when I asked to play with the train he replied no. Of course being a stubborn