Personal Narrative: Wiling Mothers

I remember the first day I walked into my kindergarten class, I clenched my mother’s hand with all my might to prevent her from letting go. The kids around me, whom I supposed were my classmates, had long let go of their mother’s had and were playing together, and even as a five year old, at that point I felt like an outsider. I pleaded my mom to not leave but my attempts failed as I found myself alone yet surrounded by complete strangers. As I stood in the center of the room while pushing back my tears and eyeing my mother make her way out the door, I heard the teacher call my name. I timidly walked towards the spot on the yellow carpet she was signaling at for me to sit on. I heard Mrs. Ross’s soothing voice but no matter how much I concentrated

The stench of death hit my nostrils as I opened the door to go inside, which is why I always hated going to the hospital. We waited the fifteen minute queue, until I heard my name from a nurse. I followed the nurse into a small, beige room. I sat down on the examining table, as my doctor walked in. I told him my symptoms, and he did a quick check up. His cold fingers pressed against my lower back. “Breathe in and out.” He said. I did as told. “Slower.” he exclaimed. At that moment, while I was slowly breathing in and out, I could hear a small click every time I inhaled. The doctor looked up and said, “Ahhh, you seem to have pneumonia.” He explained to my mom and I what that meant because we were clueless. After he finished, he told us that if I waited any longer to go to the hospital, he wouldn’t be speaking to me, which opened my mom’s eyes finally. He told me that I couldn’t go to school for at least another two weeks, gave me a school note and my prescription. We left the hospital. My mom dropped me off, and went to pick up the medication. As I lay in bed, I remember thinking about everything that has happened to me in the past two days, and what the doctor told me. Those thoughts were interrupted by the opening of my bedroom door as my mom walked in. She handed me the medication. I swallowed the pills, and fell asleep. The next morning my mom walks in with a stack of papers. She said, “It’s alright if you’re not able to attend class,

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

It felt as if I was surrounded by freezing water while on the inside being burned alive. I let my grades drop I did not care, all that mattered was being an adult and supporting my sister. My teachers did not care, I was invisible. Easy to lose in the crowd.The kids in my grade avoided me because I was “ abnormal” because I did not speak. The people who were supposed to be my guardians did not have enough money to feed both my sister and me. So I did not eat except for what was left over from dinner. I became pale and skinny. I looked like sick all the time. The only time I ate good was every other weekend when I went to my great aunt and uncle's house. This was the very best that life was going to get from me. I believed I was going to end up like my mother a drug user, and have no life. A few years later, my sister and I moved in with my aunt and uncle. They took my sister and me and gave us a great home. We both started to do a lot better. I got healthy and not so sickly looking, I started to talk a lot more, and I got my grades up. Unfortunately, my little sister did not like the fact that she wasn't entitled to anything anymore, and moved back in with our old Guardians.

At a young age I became acquainted with life's greatest pain. Loss. My parents, the Heroes of Alrudia, went off on a mission. It wasn't that difficult a task for Luiknights of their grade and they had two additional teams to go with them. But, they never came back. I remember that day. I opened the door and came face to face with a grief stricken man. The fact that I recognized the man was a bad sign. I knew immediately that something was wrong. It was the hardest I've cried in my entire life. I thought the grief would last only a short time but it stuck with me. It devastated Jas. Then and there I knew I had to be strong. I had to be strong for her. I thought that if I hid my agony, buried it deep within myself, that I could move on. Oh how wrong I

The teacher ran outside of the room to see what was happening. She screamed at us saying “we need to leave now!” As we ran to exit the building I could hear screams of people and saw the walls caving in from what I guess could’ve been another bombing. I was frightened and worried about all my friends who were over there. I kept thinking to myself that they were okay but I had this terrible feeling they weren’t.

My father finally spoke up and said abruptly, we are moving to California. I said what!. That answer moving to California, was almost equal to my uncle telling me "Your Sister Jackie is dead." I knew that my girlfriend, my anchor on earth was disappearing from my life. And now she was gone, 35 days after I lost my sister. My earth angle, I dreamed of being my wife was gone. I felt like I was having a nightmare and couldn't wake up, how could all this be happening to me. Despair sit like a stone in my stomach, like concrete boots dragging me toward what felt like my inevitable end. "I'm not going to make it. "I was in a state of melancholy depression.Laced with a fatal sense of my own wretchedness. I was fourteen years old and felt like I was

The following months a winter, cold and gloomy, surrounded the house. My grandmother came to stay with us since my father had fallen into depression and needed help taking care of my sister and I. When my grandmother went grocery shopping my sister would struggle with homework without my grandmother’s help. One day when my grandmother left to go grocery shopping my sister approached me, which was unusual of her since its very rare for her to come to me. Her dark brown hair and big eyes reminded me of my self when I was younger. “I’m hungry” she complained, a question she’s never asked me. My father sleeping and my grandmother away, I was the only one left to take care of her and that terrified me. I had never cared for or known how to care for someone else. All I knew was how to evaluate whether or not someone was caring for another correctly.

My mom and I ran out to see what all the noise was. We see soldiers. Taking people and dragging them aggressively by the arm. My mind was filled with so many questions that no one could answer. Why are they taking these people? Where are they taking these people? Who are these people taking them? What are they going to do with them? Am I next? Are we next? The lost could go on and on. My mom and I went back inside and locked the doors. But the soldiers broke right through our door. At that moment I had a feeling It wasn’t going to be easy from here and on. I was wondering where my dad was. He had left off to work but I didn't know what they would do to him since he wasn’t with us. But back then I had no idea that morning of January 30th would be the last time I saw my dad. It was the last time. We were then told to pack our stuff and that we only had 10 minutes to do so, but it felt more like 5 mins. I helped my little brothers pack their stuff so I really didn’t have time to pack mine. The soldiers put us on a train along with the others, they didn’t say where they were taking us. I held my smaller brothers tight in my hands. I didn’t know what was going to happen to us, or where they were taking

I was walking down the hallway when I heard my mom scream, that’s when they burst through the windows and doors. The soldiers, the government. We were told about them, warned even. My mom was afraid they were going to take me, I was an amazing baseball player and if I say so myself pretty gorgeous. I know I sound full of myself but they were screening me for all of this, mom knew that. She knew the country was going to be split up into two parts the modified or the gifted and the average. My mom screamed “Mars run!” Then to the soldiers “Please don’t take my baby from me.” I wasn't a baby anymore, I was in high school. I went to my room and curled up in a ball in the corner, I knew they were going to get in. I sat there and cried, I cried for my mom and my dad. I heard my sister scream, her room was next to mine. I heard a gunshot and then another. No more eye piercing screaming. Just silence. That’s when my door busted open and the soldier grabbed me, I was kicking and screaming. He walked past my sister’s room, I looked in there, my sister she was died. Her lifeless corpse lies on the floor, her final resting place. My mom was in the hallway in between the two bedrooms, her to she was gone. And my brothers room across the hall, untouched. These were the last memories of my home, I

I just want to have fun!” I yelled at her. She didn’t respond to that. She just walked downstairs, and told my parents couldn’t go. I sat in my room angry and depressed, thinking about how much fun my friends had without me. It turned out that lots of ice formed over the mountain, and it had become even more dangerous than it was before. Even though I still knew about this, I didn’t even thank my sister for pretty much saving my life. From that day on, I have shown as much appreciation and love as I can to her. Even though I still feel annoyed that my friends had lots of fun without me there, I understand the reason my sister didn’t let me go; it was just to protect me. I really started to realize how much I really appreciated my sister after she left for college. The day she was leaving, a sudden feeling of melancholy occurred in my stomach. I realized I had never appreciated my sister for the good things she had done for me, only for the bad

On March 4th, 2005 I sat in Mrs. Musser’s first grade class. I talked with my friend Olivia Thacker, like I did everyday. We talked about boys; how smelly they were and how we would never have boyfriends. We talked about our sisters who were also friends, and we talked about our parents. However, that year we mostly talked about my mother. Around 2:45, my sister, Lauren and I, would walk to the farthest end of the school. That end of the school was filled with the bigger kids and I was always scared to walk on that side. My sister who was in second grade at the time, always walked with me, so I had some protection. Anyways, we walked out the doors to the student car-rider pick up line. My grandmother on my father's side always picked us up

I thought she would never leave me, and especially under these circumstances. We lived in a house in Rogersville Missouri and there was a hole in the floor in the kitchen entering the back deck and pool I did not have a room because they said I did not deserve one. we had a living room with ugly green carpet and the walls looked like fake wood , then tammy and buddy (buddy was the person who did those things to me he is my 2nd adoptive moms, 2nd boyfriend, she only liked him cause he was wealthy I know by the sounds of the house it does not sound like it but they were doing a renovation , we had a boat two jet skis and we had a ford king ranch and a convertible Lexus) had a bedroom with an huge bed and a bathroom with paw prints on the

We approached the factory, and we were all frightened. We saw soldiers, rallying the workers. The soldiers came to us, and they talked to mom. When mom told them that she was the owner of the factory, they arrested her. The soldiers realized that we were mom’s children, so we were also arrested. I recall how scared I was during the arrest, yet I tried to remain brave. The soldiers did not hesitate; they took us to a train station. Everything happened so fast. One second I was with my family, the other I was on a train headed to an unknown destination. At this point I wasn’t with my family anymore, for they were separated from me at the train station. The train was very claustrophobic, many others were in it. I was merely a child, and everyone else in

Overall this paper provides the point of view of a mother enduring hardships and how it affects her life and the life of her child. It also describes what the role of the social worker is, how to identify these issues, and develop methods to help their client.