Personal Narrative: Death Of A Girl

My mom was a reader. She was a slow reader, but a reader nonetheless. Her favorite book to this day is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty White. The main Character’s name is Mary Frances Nolan. My mom decided then that my name would be Frances. Well, that didn’t work because my dad didn’t like that name. So anyway, my mom also loved a set of children’s books about a badger named Frances (she is an elementary school teacher), and the badger’s little sister’s name was Gloria. I was named Gloria after the little sister, or I was named after Gloria Estefan if you ask my dad.

My parents were set on girl names; if I was a girl, my name would be Lauren, after my Grandpa Loren. Thinking of a middle name became a little difficult. My mom’s mom name was MariLee, and my parents wanted to take something from her name. Finally making a decision, they chose to take the “Lee” out as my middle name. Naming a boy would be a little different; my parents wanted the name Dalton. The only reason behind that is because my mom liked the name; I beg to differ.

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

My mom and dad love to bicker about who came up with the idea to name me Miranda. My dad says when he was a teacher he had a wonderful student so he choose Miranda. While my mom following the tradition, she had a list of names that start with “M”. She suggested Molly, Marissa, and Miranda, my dad disliked Molly. I found it funny when I found out what the

I had to do what I had to. I stood over his butchered body waiting patiently for him to take his last breath. When he did, my body involuntarily fell to the ground. The hammer I used as my weapon of choice, the closet thing I could grab after freeing myself from the cage that held me captive since my abduction, hit the ground in unison with my exhausted body. I removed my blindfold, whipped his blood and flesh from my forehead and stood over the lifeless man who stole my most precious gift repeatedly. I never actually saw how he look because of the blindfold he kept on my eyes. I’d see a silhouette of a man about five feet tall often use the phone. He only spoke in Russian so I never knew what he was talking about. I never touched him because my hands were always tied with twine so tight it left permanent marks on my wrist.

My full name is Caroline Grace Britten. In the beginning, Caroline wasn’t the name that was chosen for me. When my mom and dad figured out they were having a girl, my mom liked the name Chloe. One day, she looked up the meaning of the name on the Internet. When she typed in “Chloe” inappropriate pictures popped up on the first page and she was horrified. After that, I was no longer a “Chloe” and the naming situation went back to square one. On the way to the hospital for a visit, Mom and Dad asked my older siblings names what they liked. My older brother, Wyatt, said he always thought Caroline was a pretty name. My oldest sister, Macie, loved the name Grace. So, the two names formed together and that’s how Caroline Grace

The death of a loved one is one of the most challenging events I have had to overcome. The summer of 2014, I was just going into my junior year, was one for the books. It was an absolutely amazing summer. My sister had her first baby in May and we were getting to make his first summer his best, but little did we know it would also be his last. We lost him at the end of July. It was one of the hardest things to cope with. So many unanswered questions still to this day stand.

When I was a kid in Lakewood Washington I had always loved Halloween and going trick or treating. I was going to be a ghoul that year and I had just gotten home from school and I said “Mom, mom where are you.” and I see Torin my little brother in his crib crying my moms door was open and I walked in to look for mom and I see her dead in the closet hanging.

I'm trying to recall the people I met last night.  Please help to remember them.

As I cautiously opened the creaky gate, I stared around at the graveyard. The whispers of newly departed souls clung to me like a scent. The hairs on the back of my neck started to prickle. Someone, or something was watching me.

When something happens in your life when least expected, it is not always a good thing. Three years ago I didn’t think my life could be turned upside down, but it did. I and my husband started fighting a lot, and couple months later, we lost our house, and life started going downhill from there. As soon as I thought everything was getting better, it just got three times worse. This year, I told myself I was going to make it better for my family, but then I lost my kids to CPS.

Once I was grown enough to understand what my mom was saying, she would constantly tell me how she didn’t want to name me Maria because so many people in our family had already had it. Since she didn’t know what to name me she just went with the name as saying

My cousin Wyatt was supposed to be a girl and his name is going to be what mine is now. Instead, Wyatt was a boy! My parents still liked the name, but when they found out my cousin was going to have it, they had to think of another name for the little baby girl my mom was pregnant with. She had my older sister, Alayna. My aunt was adamant about not having another child so when my mom was pregnant with another girl, she would use the name. I am not Katherine, Katie, or Kaitlyn. I am Kate.

The news arrives on a sunny Friday afternoon. A shrill ring from the phone grabs the attention of my whole family; burned into my memory forever is the image of my mother’s face. As she hangs up the phone, I already know the news was not what we had expected. Bursting into tears, my mother sobs as my father holds her, tears clouding his own eyes. The diagnosis is ductal carcinoma in situ, a form of breast cancer. The perfect weather contrasts with one of the most excruciating days of my life. The day is my mother's 50th birthday.

I quite like my name, and I won't change it for the world because it is unique. It's part of my identity, and it is meaningful to me.