Short Story : My Story

As if he read my mind he grabbed my hand. I looked up at him surprised.

Arya’s toes sink in the soft carpet as she runs down the stairs. The smell of breakfast fill her nose with joy.

Death is the thing you hear and known about but never truly know until you face it. I never thought death would frighten me until I was looking at my mom in the hospital; her face bruised from going unconscious and hitting the floor from what the doctors diagnosed her with “unclassified cardiomyopathy”. Death not only caused me to worry for my family, but also even made me worry for my future. With almost losing a special person, I realized that life can suddenly be taken from you. Life is valuable and should not be taken for granted and to savor everything.

As my brother and I are what feels to be entrapped in our own room, I lean my ear on the door to understand what’s happening. As I lean on I can hear a soft ,yet faint whimper coming from my mother as my father tries to talk to her. I relay this information to my brother, hoping he had any idea on what was going on. Sadly, neither of us knew what we did or what went wrong.

The wind howled outside warning us of the bitter cold that waited for us outside. The sky was starting to turn dark and the outside world became scarier compared to the warmth of the fireplace before me, it was crackling and spitting out little pieces of burnt wood but they couldn’t make it past the glass panel. Within minutes everyone was piled in the room talking and chatting about how scary it was going to be tonight. As a group of stupid high school kids we decided to go out to haunted road that lays right outside the village we all call home. We decided to meet at my house, mainly because my parents are never home and I live the closest. After 10 minutes of chatting we all piled into vehicles and headed for the abandoned road. There is a story that goes along with this road. Back in the 1890’s there was an old farmer that lived at the end of the road with his wife and 3 children, he was a scary old man people say, someone you wouldn’t dare to speak back too. One halloween night a couple of teenagers decided to play a prank on the old farmer and his family but it ended horribly. The farmer thought that the kids were trying to endanger his family and ended up killing one of the youngest people in the group. It was said that after that night he changed into a completely different person, he was cold and scarier than before. He went into the little village tavern and drank every night, the people told him that he was just protecting his family but he continued to drown

Growing up, I've always said I would never be like the person that I turned out to be. I used to make straight A’s and would never cause any trouble, but as times grew older, it became a different story. I found myself hanging with the wrong group of people and I started doing those exact things I would dwell as a young kid going through middle school, seeing all the bad kids being trouble makers and doing very bad things. Even though I grew up with great parents who always just wanted me to be a better kid than they were, I still found that just one bad friend who lead to another, then to another, and ect.

My name is Stella. My parents gave me this name because they thought I would be the light of there lives. They could not have been more wrong.

One one fall night the leaves where falling from the trees and everybody in the neighborhood were putting out their Halloween decorations. Alexis and Jordan lived in this nice neighborhood with their mom Alexis was 17 and Jordan was 8years old.

“Piss it out like a fire rocket!” She screamed, while repeatedly slamming the bathroom door open and closed. I was 16 years old when I sat on that toilet. Eyes wide, full of bright ideas; like the one that led me to try out Marine Corps boot camp. The drill instructor in front of me showed no mercy, standing tall and proud, Sergeant Gidean had Marine Corps in her blood. As I sat there, pants around my knees, I thought I would never pee again. How could I ever amount to a person with such courage and tenacity? Often joking with myself that I had developed Stockholm Syndrome, I yearned to be like the woman who was screaming at me, and gain her approval in every way. For two weeks we lived in the same bug filled barracks together, marching side by side, pursuing some form of self-improvement. Okay, maybe that last part was just me. But we were both so different from one another, and yet I found resemblance between us. A resemblance that kept me calm, that said “she’s human too.” But the difference that kept me motivated to change and be a better person.

Have you ever found something strange while you were looking for something or cleaning? Well, that happened to me, Cara. I was cleaning my old and dusty basement, when I found something that was unknown to me. It was a picture of me and this girl, who looked the same as me. I was confused and shocked at how much this girl looked liked me. Was she a sibling, a long lost family member, or maybe even a twin?

I was born in Portland, when i was five years old my mom moved to Mexico she had a lot of problems with the law. My two sisters and i stayed with my dad. My sisters names are Cindy and Estrella, Cindy is 18 years old and Estrella is 19 years old. At first when we were with my dad it was hard because we were really used to have mom around the house. My dad needed to work a lot so i would just spend my time with babysitters, i hated all my babysitters all the kids were so annoying. There was only one babysitter that i really liked, her name was Noemi she was like my second Mom she show me a lot of things of life, like saying thank you to people and saying please. She just showed me how to be a better person. When i turn 11 years old Noemi stopped babysitting me because she moved really far from beaverton, i was really upset when she left but she would always tell me that i am always welcome to go to her house. After Noemi stopped babysitting me i would stayed with my two sisters at home.

It is a brisk summer day at Porretto Beach in Galveston, Texas. I, Casila, lay in the sand with my luxurious dark black hair spread out, hidden in the the sand. No matter how much the scalding heat bothers me, I do not dare enter the water. I lost my mother to the water not a year after I was born. I lost my brother fifteen years later to fire coral, which lives in the water. Now, twenty-three years after my mother’s death, I still live in fear.

My story begins in London, England. I have two parents who seem to form an oxymoron, because even from a young age I could tell that they were the complete opposites from each other. I vividly recall living with my school friend for around a week and wondering what I had done to deserve such a fantastic vacation. When I was finally allowed to return to my parents, I did not return to the apartment I was familiar with, but a duplex house with another family I had never met before. It was much later in life, through discussion with my parents, that I learned that we were evicted. This kind of financial struggle has followed me all throughout my life. There has only ever been enough revenue to make sure our stomachs are full and to pay the bills. Afterwards, barely anything. However, these struggles have taught me that money is not happiness. In my house, there was and still is, consistent laughter. The oxymoron made it known that they loved me, no matter what the circumstance may have been. They taught me that family is important; life is can never terrible when family is there. I vowed that when I have my family, I would work as hard as I can to maintain happiness at home because happiness is the greatest medicine, the healer of all ailments.

Ahhhhh. I looked at the laughing faces, broad smiles, and love that last a lifetime. I could taste the salty air drop in my mouth and the color of the sea was as blue and vibrant as a blueberry. I can't remember another time that I was happier. The laughs seemed endless, just like the swaying ocean. Me and my sisters stopped fighting, I finally stopped complaining, and all was finally good. I felt happy and bright, and I know that I don’t have to worry about my school work or my next gymnastics meet. Life was perfect in Hawaii. When I am mad I know I can think of this vacation to look back on and I can remember how my family was brought closer together and how the SIX HOUR plane ride was definitely worth it.

I don’t really know where to begin, but i’ll give it a try. My names Jethro (JuJu) Melse also known as Jet. I turned 16 this month on the third of September. I was born in Orlando, Florida. But was raised in Paterson ,New Jersey. My nationality is Haitian. Im also a Christian. I am also the first born. I grew up with two younger siblings. But I had a lot of responsibilities from a young age. I will be telling you the story about me.