Personal Narrative: My Night At Olivia Miner's Home

The parents came out of Grandma’s room by one by one, bags under their eyes, makeup running down their face, and bright red noses. By that time, I could almost predict what happened. As my mom and dad approached us with their heads down, I prepared myself to hear exactly what I never wanted to hear. “The doctors are turning off the life support machine. She isn’t suffering anymore, and she will be looking over every one of you guys. She said she loves you all so much,” Mom told us while my dad didn’t hide his tears back.

A few weeks later was the funeral I walk into the church with my family and even though he was gone His spirit brought joy and tears to my eyes, the tears of sadness burned my face during the speeches. The open casket came around and my mom told me that I did not have to if I did not want to. My body did not want to go see even though inside me I felt it was my honor to go and take that moment to remember his

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

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

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

My mom kept saying "I have got to go see Fran. I need to see with my brother" My mom ran down stairs to get ready to go, I followed her and just stood there, still paralyzed. She hugged me and said that she loved me. I had never seen my mom so panicked. She went into the bathroom to take a shower and I could still hear her sobbing through the door. I was all by myself, now. I was standing in the middle of the family room as the words "He is dead" pierced my heart like daggers of ice. I was screaming OH, GOD NO, and started to cry uncontrollably. The realization that I would never see my uncle again struck me. After I got myself under control I went and packed my things to leave with my mother. As soon as we were done we were on the next flight to New Jersey.

On October 17, 2033, I was adopted from The Carey House For Girls soon after my third “birthday”, when Dixon was 10. I was your average orphan girl: left on the doorstep with a name around my neck before I could remember my parents faces, so the day i was taken in (October 11th) became my birthday. I never once wondered about who/where/how my birth parents were. I wasn’t mad that they gave me away nor was i curious as to why they did it. I simply didn’t care. For instance, One day when i was 13, a couple showed up at our house claiming to be my parents. Cia and Page were busy upstairs so I invited them in, shared some juice with them, chatted a bit with them, and then showed them out the door. By the time my mom asked me about who came in,

It was the day of Allie’s funeral and I wasn’t going. I mean I would’ve, it’s not like I wasn’t invited and all, but I was just in the hospital. I had broken my hand when I smashed all those stupid windows in the garage. But none of that matters anyway, Allie was dead and he was never coming back. Mom had come in to my room this morning all dressed in black and she just held on to me and started crying. She said, “It’ll get better before you know it Holden”. I just smiled and let her hold me, but I knew she was lying. I hated her a little for saying that. She and I both knew it would take a long time before anything got better. After letting go of me and wiping her face with a tissue

“It’s going to be fine,” that's all I hear from the lady sitting next to me as I am crying and looking out the window as the house I was first brought home to grows smaller and smaller. I turned around and cried not knowing what was going on and why I was being taken from my home. The lady next to me began to comfort me and held me close while I cried. I didn’t know her or the other people that were with her and I was scared. I had no idea where we were going and I had no idea where my brothers or sister were. We drove for about half an hour and then we pulled into a big parking lot and stopped. We all got out and they led me into a large building that smelled like winterfresh air fresheners. The sound of crying and laughing filled the air while kids and

“I wish for the same aspect I’ve hoped for from the beginning. I wish for a life so fearless, so unpredictable, so full of unexpected joys and unforgettable love that no box could possibly contain all my memories. Such a life won’t be perfect. It’ll be something better, it will be my own paradise”. I’m going to share with you about my “Helene Tucker”. My symbol is my friend Taylor, which represents love, trust, and laughter “everything I want”.

The battery on my phone was low and I chose not to write her back. A few hours later I received a call from her friend Courtney, Courtney was hysterical “What’s wrong”? I kept asking Courtney if she was okay. She responded real quietly and said “Makayla was in a car accident.” My heart broke into a million pieces I could not believe what I was hearing. I asked if Makayla was okay Courtney remained silent. I asked her again and she said: “She’s dead.” I did not believe what I was hearing. It was extremely hard difficult to comprehend that my dear friend Makayla was dead. I was trying not to cry in front of my family: however, they knew I received bad news. I told them the news I heard and they could not believe it my mom could not hold her tears back, but I knew we had to get home soon so I could be alone. My family and I were on our way home, we were traveling and started over heating it took forever to get home. My boyfriend called and I told him the news and he could not believe it either. How could a nineteen year old be dead? She was to young to die. Her family cremated her remains. Makayla was given a celebration of life. Many people came and talked kindly of

It was three a.m. in the morning, and I had just crawled into my comfy bed. Being that I was twenty one and working at Pizza Hut till one a.m. this was a normal ritual. I heard my phone text alert go off, but I just wanted to get some much needed sleep. Being it had to be a pointless text since it was so late I ignored it. Suddenly my phone ring, it was my younger sister, Amanda, who was seventeen at the time “You need to come get me from Amber’s house”, is all she said very quietly. “Wait it’s three in the morning and you want me to come get you?” Amanda started quickly talking about being at Amber’s house, a party and cops. By now I was anxiously awake, getting dressed and finding my keys. I didn’t know the whole story yet, but it

The funeral started and I didn't cry at the beginning. I sat over in the corner and listened to great stories about my uncle, he really was a good man. As I sat there, I kept going over in my head how many times I had seen him, and it wasn't that many times, he lived close, why didn't I go see him more often, I started regretting everything. Right when I finished thinking about how I'm a bad person, and should have seen him more, they started calling up rows to say one more goodbye. I was proud of myself, I was trying to be strong for my mom and sister, I didn't want to cry. My sister and I walked up together. We were 3rd in line, we were getting closer and closer, I felt it, the feeling you get. I started to choke up, I coughed a little bit. By the time we were 2nd in line, I had totally lost it, forget being strong, I wanted to get down on my knees and just apologize for everything, I know it wasn't, but it felt like it was my fault, everything. We said our goodbyes and walked away, we were family so we got a back private room, I went in there and started bawling. Someone else from my family walked in, I don't even remember who it was, all I know is I needed someone to cry on. They walked over and gave me a hug, I cried for about 5 minutes, and then pulled myself together. I kept on thinking about everything,

One morning I was woken up very early and my dad sat on the edge of my bed and was crying. When I asked what was wrong he told me my grandpa Tony had died. When he told me it took about 5 minutes for it to hit me and then the tears started rolling. If I remember correctly I was 9 or 10 when this happened and never really experienced loss before this. A couple hours later my Mom told us we would be going to Los Angeles soon for a funeral. I was born in Los Angeles and haven't gone there in a while so it made me sad to go to the city for a funeral of all things.

I screamed no no no for at least tweety minutes I knew my mommy was gone. I sat there for hours and hours not wanting it to be true. My adopted mother held me and she didn’t want it to be true but it was. The doctor came into to talk to me and I wasn’t ready to talk about me seeing my mother take her last breath and the ventilator and machines make the flat line noise. I just couldn’t bare to believe what happened to my mommy.