Personal Narrative

In 2015 my grandmother died. When I received the news I was on the couch and my mother told me “Miguel we have to talk” I was sweating because my mother was so serious and she told me that my grandmother was dead, and in that moment all I could think about was being back in the Dominican Republic, growing up with her, imagining the moments I spent in her house and the mornings that I sat in her living room, watching TV and smelling her amazing food wafting through the pass-through window from the kitchen. Then I snap back on reality and realize the future my grandmother would want for me.

I’m going through the loss of my grandpa. My mother helped my through the loss. We got through it together at my house with my mom and dad. I faced I faced this tragedy when I went to the funeral.

When I got my family was around our wooden table. My dad on his soft voice said “ I don’t think your grandpa will go through one more night, you need to call him” he cried. I felt like I couldn’t do it, felt so week and a huge hole in my stomach, something I’ve never felt before, I grabbed the phone and when I was about to call, the phone ringed, I passed the phone to my dad, It was my aunt sobbing and barely able to speak, then she said “ he passed away, I’m sorry honey” I couldn’t believe it I didn’t even had the chance to say

I breath between tears with at least some hope that my mother will still be alive when I hear a moan on the other side of the bed. I gasp when I see her face down I pick her up and I hold her in my arm and she coughs up blood and between little murmurs I catch her telling me that she loves me and that I need to be strong when all of sudden she stops breathing. I stop to sob because for some reason I forgot who to cry instead I held my mother. Sirens get louder and louder when the front door opens and a bunch of people come in repeating into their radios “two people down and one alive” and five people surrounded me ask me “are you okay” and I just look at them with confusion why would ask me that when it was clear that I had just lost both of my parents. They took my mother away and took me to and ambulance outside of my house. As I was close to the ambulance I look over at the police car and found this teenaged boy who look at me with fury that when I realized that had to be the boy that killed my parents everything went black and just felt my body drop to the

I could hear muted sobs as friends and family members began lashing out in tears. Yet, I stood still as ever as memories with my best friend began flashing in my head. I was best friends with a girl who lived right next door to me since birth. We told secrets and laughed with one another since the day I can recall my earliest memory as a child. It was unfortunate to see it all come to an end now that she was gone. All I saw was her lifeless body slowly turning pale on a stretcher stationed on her living room floor. This was one of those moments that makes you question how quickly life can take an unexpected turn. I wasn't willing to accept that

At the age of twelve years old, I lost my mother due to liver disease. Came home from school just to see her take her last breathe. She was laying there with a family picture in her hands. I never saw someone turn blue as their eyes turned yellow. The warmth of her body was slowly leaving as she was turning cold. I laid next to her and asked her to get up or say something to me, she laid their so stiff and quiet. It felt so unreal. I didn’t know our last hug and kiss was going to be so cold. I didn’t know what to say or think, all I felt were tears coming down my face. My siblings and I missed a couple days of school due to the funeral arrangements and the mourning of our mother. A few weeks later, I came home from school with the devastating news that my father along with three of my siblings were deported back to Mexico. I was left with my fourteen year old sister, with no family in the United States that could have come to our rescue. I sat in my parent’s room and looked at our family pictures. All the family memories kept rushing through my head. I felt numb and empty wondering if I was still alive or was this the feeling you feel when you’re dead. There were only two questions in my head how will my sister and I survive? Will I make it to see the next day?

right now, then my grandma started to cry. We pulled up to my auntie Robbie’s house and it was July so her big willow tree was in full bloom and her yard looked so pretty, but it was overshadowed by the crowd of people crying. My mom just pulled me and my brother into a hug. Eventually she loosened her grip, looked us in the eyes and told us that Cody had passed away. Cody J. Martin passed away at the young age of twenty-eight due to a heart aneurysm. The newspaper clipping is still on the fridge beside a picture of him smiling in a pluto hat in Disneyland. The first few days I didn't say a word to a single person, I went utterly blank. Then all I felt was anger. After he passed I was angry, angry at myself, angry at the doctors, angry at the world. I needed someone to blame and I took it out on my family. I became even worse, lashing out at people that just wanted to help, shrinking back from their love, even though they were all going through the same feelings. Eventually, all I did was cry. I cried thinking I would never stop but eventually there were just no more tears to cry. Then came my saving grace, Kallie Michelle Crossland.

I have not always been a Christian, growing up in an isolated part of Tennessee were families lived apart from each other, Jesus was not a household name that was spoken of. We didn’t pray or nor did I see my parents pray. This became a resonating tradition in my life. Though I was very close to my mother and really didn’t interact with others, it created in my mind an introverted person. This created a covering of my feelings and started me on a downward fall in my life. Our family didn’t go to church, so it became a part of my belief system, so I continued to live my life as if nothing else matters outside of my family. I was gifted in many things, but I drew to my talent of Basketball and focused totally on it. The adrenaline and desire

I woke up as usual a couple of years ago on September 20, I rubbed my tired eyes with my hands curled into fists. Uncovering my head from the large blanket I had, I was blinded by the brilliant light that hung above my head. A few moments later, after my eyes had adjusted, and my temporary blindness left me, I stumbled out of my bed and tripped to my closet, still dazed from just having woken up. Once I was ready I dazedly walked down the stairs, hanging onto the wooden rail tightly so I wouldn’t fall, though I almost fell more than a few times. My grandmother was sitting in her grey rocking chair, watching The walking dead, she heard me trip off the last step coming down the stairs and turned her head slightly to face me. She started to say

When I saw my aunt and uncle walk into the waiting room, fresh tear stains streaked upon their cheeks, I knew. When my uncle opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out but a child like squeal, my heart was torn in half. When someone finally said the words ‘she’s gone’ to the family members that had just arrived, getting my extremities cut off of my body one by one would have most certainly hurt less. I shut down and sat in that too clean smelling hospital room, little by little people began to say their good-byes to each other and leave, while I just sat. My grandpa walked in and I looked up at the red neon clock on the wall to see that a hour had passed. Without saying a word, he motioned and walked with me out of the room to the end of the hallway where my sister and cousin were sitting. The corner where the four of us sat, you could look out the windows into a sea of city

While walking, the silence all around me left me thinking about my friend, who should be with me right now. It was hard for me when i saw him dead, but my body was so in shock that i don't think I fully processed it. Now that my mind is more clear, I can't get him out of my mind. The memories i have of us together kept me going, i was sure I would make it out of here. I just wished he was here with me, making it out with me. I could dwell on the past though, or I would stay there. I was trying to stay focused on the future, and me. I was going to do this for him.

It was a bright and warm summer morning when I woke from a good night sleep. Nothing prepared me for the dark, gloomy and sad day ahead of me. You see, this was the day that my cousin and childhood best friend passed away in an auto accident.

When I woke up, I hardly remembered where I was. But then, as I looked over to the door to see Alex, I remembered. She opened the door and held the rope out to me so that she could hook it onto the thing around my neck. I stood up from my bed, stretched, shook my fur out and walked over to her. She hooked the rope onto me and we walked back through the hallway. She took me out the back door that I came in through and we walked further towards the back of the building. By this point, I realized how much water I drank and how bad I needed to go. Alex must have known that because we got closer and closer to a big open field surrounded by trees, bushes, and a small fence. We walked through a gate on the fence and she bent down to my level. She

The plane began to shudder, “turbulence” I thought to myself, but the shuddering was followed by the wail of warning bells. I dashed to the front, desperate to see what was going on. Swirling grey storm clouds waited whilst jagged lines of bright light flashed metres in front of the plane

Wooow, he just died, I exaggeratedly thought to myself, but with my mouth open. I stood in the pounding rain glimpsing at Doodle, didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. No emotion appears upon me, but questions were roaming my head: How am I going to tell mom and dad? What should I say? How should I say it?