Personal Narrative Of My Life

I asked my mom “what’s wrong,” she replied with a sorrowful “your Aunt Lisa is in trouble, we must leave now.” The worst part of all of this was my Aunt Lisa’s son was with us, Matthew. He did not know what to think or believe. No one knew the world would slowly start shattering beneath all of us that morning. We drove to her house, we saw ambulances and police cars driving by, that did not help our nerves at all. We finally arrived at her apartment, we never thought all of those emergency vehicles would be going there. My brother and I stay in the car since I was only eight and he was only eleven. My mom and cousin run into the apartment hoping to only find my Aunt had fallen and is unconscious, or she is passed out drunk, just let it be something that is not permanent. What they come to find is that my Aunt is laying on the floor, unconscious, but cold as ice. It was not from someone killing her, or us getting there too late. She had died twenty-four minutes before that phone

It was Wednesday morning, 6:30am, and yes I had to go to school. I remember calling and begging, asking if I could take the day off, but mom wasn’t having any of it, so I had to get ready. The pain was gone, which I was fortunate about, but I still felt ill. I hopped into the shower, washed up, and when I got out I collapsed. White light again, but this time it was all I could see. I closed my eyes. I was on the floor, unable to move. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally opened my eyes. I went straight to my bed, and fell asleep. I woke up a mess, and felt worse than before. I looked at my phone, and saw at least six hundred missed called from mom. I called her, fearing for what was to come. “WHERE ARE YOU? WHY DIDN’T YOU GO TO SCHOOL?” She screamed. “I’m at home. I didn’t go to school because I feel worse than before. I really need to go to the hospital.” I whimpered. She told me that we’ll go when she comes back from work, and I agreed. Back to sleep I went. I wake up to my mom rushing into my room. She signaled to get ready by moving her head quickly forty-five degrees to the left. I got ready to leave, and we left at around

Starting high school can be a little scary, especially when you have no guidance from siblings, like me, being the first one from my family to have an education. But that did not stop me from succeeding, I?ve always been confident and determined. I?m an enthusiastic when it comes to trying new things. Who would have thought I was going to be a good athlete plus a book geek, when in my past years I was just a regular kid. I was pretty excited about joining a club that had a connection with high school, that way I didn?t have to start from zero, I always want to be a step ahead. Fortunately, in summer, a high school coach was recruiting freshmen for running either cross country or track, they both involve running, so I considered it like the same sport with different timing. And this is when it all started. Running

That day when I returned home from school, my mom’s boyfriend called me asking to speak to my grandmother. Typically, Gus would call my grandmother himself if he wanted to speak with her, which was rare. I found out about my mom going to the hospital from my grandmother after that phone call. The doctor told my family that a stroke afflicted her in the middle of the day. My mom confused the date with her birthday, had trouble getting words out and remembering our family member’s names. The nurse had to take her for walks periodically and exercise her legs and arms because they were weak. Seeing my mother in this condition made me appreciate my mother and everything she does for me tremendously. However, I was terrified for my mother’s health.

On Wednesday, November 26, 2014, I was coming out of a very hectic day at work, when I received the news that had me breaking down in tears. “Odette your mother is in the emergency room.” I could not believe the words that were coming out of my father's mouth in that instinct. So many thoughts came rushing through my mind. “Why, my mom?” I kept on asking myself, but I knew that I could not show my depression to my two younger siblings. The reason for that was that I did not want to scare them nor make them feel the horrible feeling that I was feeling inside. Even though I appeared to look fine in the outside, my precious soul was dying in sorrows in the inside. The scariest thought of knowing your mother is in danger and that you cannot do anything to save her is very traumatizing. I honestly felt like my hands were tied behind my back while I saw her drowning in pain.

Five days had passed this time since anyone had heard from my mother. I remember praying to God to protect her from harm and for me to find her. The next day she showed up, but not in the way we had hoped. One morning as I was getting ready for school my sophomore year in high school, my phone rang to the voice of my stepfather. My stepfather had told me he heard a call come over the dispatch scanner at his work and my mother’s name was mentioned. The sheriff had informed my stepfather that my mother had been involved in an accident. My stepfather asked me to go to the emergency room and see what condition my mother was in because he lived a half hour away from the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital I found my mother cut out of her clothes, covered in her own urine, massive amounts of blood all over her body, and lying lifeless on life support on the table. At this point, no one knew whether my mother would be okay. My mother had bleeding on the brain as well as a tear in her shoulder, a shattered face, and a chest tube draining fluid from her lung which had collapsed. All I could do was pray! My mother’s life was in God’s hands now. Three days later she woke

Our mom Julia had overdosed and the EMTs did everything they could but she was pronounced dead hours ago with J right beside her. Julia wasn't my biological mother but she had raised me alongside J my entire life. My dad had been with her for a while back when I was younger and she even used to say that he was like the Kurt Cobain to her Courtney Love, he hadn't died or anything but after getting too comfortable he ran off and dumped me onto Julia like some hand me down.

To this date, it was the worst phone call of my life. I was informed my father and stepmother were in a motorcycle accident in Florida where they retired for the winter. My stepmother was expected to have a painful, long recovery, as she suffered from multiple fractures to her face, a dislocated jaw, and pelvis that was broken in 3 places, plus many small cuts and bruises. My father, however, had not awakened after the accident and we should get to the hospital in Florida as soon as possible. My brother, his wife, and I booked flights and we were on our way they next day. It was not how I expected to spend Easter. The next four days were a blur. We met with doctors and nurses and didn’t feel like we had any answers to the real condition of our father. We knew of his injuries but not what they meant to his future. He had bruising between the hemispheres of his brain, on the outside of the brain, bruising on his brainstem, and multiple open fractures on the left side of his body. I couldn’t get any of his doctors to tell me their opinion on his prognosis. They would only say, “we need another 48 hours”. The only thing I could think was, “if you knew my dad, he would hate this. You life flighted him, now he’s hook to machinery to breath, and all he would have wanted was to have the ambulance run him over and put him out of his misery”. We knew my father’s wishes and they didn’t look anything like

Ever since I was little my life has been changed. It all started when I was 8 and woke up to my parents fighting. They were throwing things at each other, calling each other names, and hitting and pushing each other around. I went outside of my room to go to the bathroom and saw my birth mother, Katie, laying in the floor with a pool of blood by her head. As soon as i saw this I went back to my room and pretended that i never saw anything. I tried to go to sleep, but I found that unbearable. The next morning I was getting ready for school and I noticed that my birth mother wasn't there. It was then at the moment that I realized that she was never coming back. I continued on with my day and when i get home later that day my father wanted to

I told her what happened. She got there as soon as the ambulance got there. Somebody could’ve been dead by the time the ambulance got there. They came in and checked her. The paramedics and the emts told her she can’t be doing all that energetic exercise. They took her out the house on the stretcher into the ambulance van. My father told us to straighten up before we left to go with my auntie. When we got done she told us to go get some clothes. We did as we was told. When i got done, looked out the window and seen that the ambulance was still outside. I went outside to be nosey. They told my father he couldn't get in to check on my mother, so he was standing on the porch watching from a far distance. I was curious to what they was doing to

At the end of a busy day, my father calls and says that my mother is very sick. She had been in the hospital for intravenous fluids. I could tell by his tone of voice that something was gravely wrong. I rushed to the hospital to find my mother barely able to breathe. Her nurse was racing to control her breathing while giving her a diuretic. My mother is a very small person and the nurse had ascertained the fact that she was given too much fluid. She was in fluid overload. Her nurse had just saved my mother’s life. All the while, he was able to comfort my father and reassure me. He

As I stood watching the moms work on her and trying to get ahold of her mom, I began tearing up and was thinking of the worst things possible. What if her heart is failing again? What if she doesn’t get any better? What if I lose one of my best friends? What if? Looking at her crying and scared to death because her mom was two hours away, I said a little

She offered to take us to Stanford Hospital and wait for my mom’s surgery to finish. When we arrived at the hospital the concierge told us her surgery would take two to four more hours. I kept praying while waiting for the surgery to finish. Hours later the Doctor came out with the news, he stated “Froda lost a massive amount of blood, she will need a lot of rest, but she is in a stable condition”. Hearing those words gave me a bit of relief, but I was still emotionally devastated. Days later she woke up. Her face was pale as a ghost and had tubes going around her body. I was in shock and times couldn’t take the pain. I kept asking: “Mom do you know who I am?”. She would nod her head slowly.When she spoke, every word that came out was mumbly. I nor can anyone understand her, but I was happy that she was

In the first telling of my personal narrative, I did not consider including what had led me to a point where I began to embrace my identities and become proud of my heritage as Korean. There were many factors that led me to be who I am today. The reason for leaving out the information was because there were so many people and occurrences that led me to the point where I am now. For example, moving to different elementary school where there were more diverse body of students, annually performing at the Mosaic in the Korean pavilion, my parents being a positive role model, and becoming a volunteer teacher at the Korean Language School are some of the reasons which have led me to be who I am today. As I was surrounded by people who were interested

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular