Short Story : My Story

Born in the cold winter night of December was a little daddy’s princess, Sarika. Yes, it’s me. I am Sarika. That’s the name I was given by my father. The meaning of name Sarika is a bird, a beautiful thing or a princess. Like every father, he chose this name for me because he already knew someday I’ll become independent and soar higher like a bird. From the moment he first held me in his arms and stared into my eyes, he knew that I was very special and had lots of hopes and dreams for the future. On the other hand, my mom was very disappointed that she gave birth to a girl again. She wanted a boy. She had already given birth to four girls. She hoped that fifth one would be a boy. But unfortunately, it was a girl again. In dismay, she even forgot to breastfed me. She wanted to adopt a boy but my father did not agree. My father explained to her that I was the gift of the God and no matter what gender I was, I am his child.

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.

“NO” was the first word that she uttered when he was enjoying squeezing the nectar of her purity. He was the same person who fought against the whole world only to marry her three months ago. He was the same person who took a vow to protect her from the outer world, but he forgot to mention that one day he won’t be able to control his inner demon. Today, two months after their marriage, he came back late from the office and starts unbuttoning his shirt and she is not ready for what he wants. She is on her period. He was tired and jaded and wanted that pleasure which he hasn’t felt from the last two days because of his busy schedule.

John Logan breathed a stream of hot air into his cupped hands, hoping to warm them up against the cold mid-morning air. From his mouth poured a waterfall of steam, visible and telling of the temperature. If there was anything that John Logan hated more than having to deal with a homicide is doing it on a cold, winters morning.

First of all I was born in Peoria, IL November 11, 2004 we have 6 people in my family, my brother Michael my two sisters Erica and Rebecca and my parents Mike and Judy. I have a funny story when my brother michael was born, my dad drove down a one way street. Anyway back to my story growing up I loved baseball and any sports I could play really. I was really active as a child and would get my hands on anything I could even If that means pulling a 100 dollar bill out of my mom's purse. Growing up I didn't really like school that much I really just wanted to explore or play. But I am really glad I went to kindergarten because if I didn't I wouldn't of met a lot of my friends. But then came 1st grade I didn't really expect 1st grade to be fun but surprising it really was. 2nd and 3rd grade was probably the most fun. Because we got to do a to of parties and it was super fun. And even in 4th grade we go to do a pilgrim experience which was really fun. We got to bring our own snacks which was awesome but the only thing that was not good was for the boys we had to wear a dress up shirt which was really hot in the room. And another awesome thing we got to do in grade school was go on really cool field trips. Like tanners orchard and lincoln's old house. But from 4th grade to 5th grade was really weird because there was a bunch of people who I didn't know. And for the

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.

In the year of 2009 at the age of 8 or 9 my mom had big news to tell me. Many emotions were brought upon me, but for the most part I was excited yet scared to hear the news. My aunt and grandma knew about the news, so I was next in line. My mother didn't know how to tell me because I was so young and she didn't know if I was able to handle the news or not. One morning while getting ready for school, she sat me down and said she had some news to tell me. After thinking about all the possible things she could say, I eventually asked what was it? She responded back that I was going to be a big sister.

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.

I remember when I was a little girl around four I woke up in my room to the sun. It was spring time on a Saturday and it was just me and my mom at home. When I woke up I immediately went looking for my mom knowing she was around somewhere. I checked in the kitchen and living room but it was empty and quiet. After doing that I decided to check the basement, which as a kid is the worst place to be all alone, however for some reason I felt like she was down there washing clothes because where else could she have gone. I traveled down the stairs slowly and scaredly. As I was walking down the basement stairs I passed the sunny door leading to the backyard and all of the sunlight that came from the door was lighting up the basement making it look welcoming and not so cold and dark. I then heard the washing machine turn on and that's when I knew she was there and decided to pass through the dimly lit basement to the laundry room where she was. When I approached her she turned around and seen that I was up and said “Good morning I washed Mrs. Bear ”. Mrs. Bear was a white bear with a brown threaded nose and two black eyes that I had been given by my mother. Mrs. Bear would always get dirty fast and as a little kid I cared about her alot so when I heard my mom saying she washed her I was ecstatic. I looked up to see Mrs. Bear sitting on the ledge of the small basement window, her white fur glowing from the sun, looking almost brand new. My mom brought her down for me and immediately

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.

It was a friday afternoon the sky was bright blue the sun was shining bright yellow and I Zack Allen was about to go to work he said by to his mom and dad.by’’said mom. I went out the door, I never get to work on time. I work as a junior detective. When I got to work, I almost got fired because I was late. After work i frowned. I wish i was faster.”I said. When I got home something amazing happened. I came home opened the door then ran up steers jumped on my bed and stared at my pet fish. Then a big storm came. I got out of bed and then looked out the window, sing nothing but a dosty shade of black. Suddenly my rofe flow open and a bright big blue lightning bolt strock me. I past out for a few hours. The next thing I know i was rushed to the hospital. My heart started beating very fast then it stopped for a minute, then started beating again.

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?

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.

I hear several loud bangs while I sleep. I soon realize my mom is knocking on my bedroom door. Confused, I get up to unlock and open my door. I immediately notice that my mom is crying. My mom says, “We have to go, grandpa is dying.” She can barely get the last three words out. My heart drops. I initially think I’m dreaming but I soon realize this is very real. I instantly get dressed, when I walk out to the kitchen my mom is waiting. We leave for the hospital.

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