The Best Day Of My Life

August 17, 2014 was a brightly hectic day dulled down by the fact that it was the first day of my sophomore year of high school. Forty-five minutes into Ms. Higgins' lecture on Englewood High School dress code Garrett Martinez strutted into the room. Wearing black sunglasses, a baby blue Captain America t-shirt, and blue jeans he moved toward the only available seat with the grace of a wannabe city slicker. Immediately after trading his shades in for a pair of regular glasses he pulled his poodle like hair into a hot pink hair tie and struck up a conversation with the professor about "Doctor Who" and "Sherlock". From that moment I could tell that we would be amazing friends; boy was I wrong.

I trudge through the hallway in disbelief that it’s only the second week of my junior year. The tumultuous sea of students push passed my slender body; I keep my head down watching the shuffling of feet as I make my mindless progression. Obfuscated, my mind struggles to recall life before this weekend but such an egregious event is not easily forgotten. How was I going to explain myself? Somehow I made it to my English classroom where my affable teacher sat diligently bent over papers. Even though he appears undeniably nonthreatening my hands still shake amid my trek to his desk. Not knowing how to commence telling my story I simply blurt out “I’m sorry if I start crying in class...my dad tried to kill me this weekend.”

It was 2:17 in the afternoon, and Mrs. Cartwright’s bust just kept bouncing. Mrs. Cartwright was our new teacher for our Health class, due to some complications with our old teacher. No one really knows why Mr. Smith was fired, but rumors say he was some kind of Russian spy and the CIA came to find out what he was. Others say he was selling drugs secretly to other students, but in reality no one really knows the true story as to why Mr. Smith was fired. As Mrs. Cartwright continued to lecture us on the worst topic of the year, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

The sound of cameras shuttering people yelling and heels clanking against the school floor, my principal yelling “No more questions!”  Approached my classroom door. I speculated what could have happened, did someone make a scientific breakthrough, did someone get hurt? I could see similar thoughts rushing through the heads of my peers to. I live in a small town in New York called Arnal, here local news is very popular among the town's residents. Lots of intriguing things take place here, but I have never see the reporters so intrusive, they were eager to get there question answered. The bell rung and snapped me out of my trans, my class always goes to the library to eat lunch, this lunch I had plans of my own. I tiptoed to the spot in which I heard the noises stop, there stood Principal Heid whispering with his lawyer.

Seven fifteen Tuesday the twenty ninth of November I bundled up in my black peacoat and headed up the road from Peabody hall to Ellison Campus center. It was a surprisingly warm evening for late November, sprinkling with a soft breeze. I was on my way to a Salem State Writer’s Series Event. Up Drinkwater Way the lights of the campus glowing in the rain it was a soft peaceful evening, a good atmosphere for a poetry reading. I headed into the campus center, it was busy considering how few people I had seen on my walk over. People were meeting up chatting amicable about the events they were arriving to witness. I headed through the lobby to the stairs and descended down into the basement. Normally the basement of Ellison reminds me a bit to much of an empty hospital hallway in a horror movie. All long windowless corridors and locked doors. But tonight, as it often is on event night, the hallways at the end of stairs was bustling with people. The metro room, the location of the nights events, was already nearly full. Faculty, alumni, students, and guest crowded together on hotel ballroom chairs. People were chatting and laughing and the atmosphere was light like fizzy water, despite the weather outside. With the usual nervous trepidation I feel as a young person going anywhere I’ve never been before alone, I sat in a chair on the end of a row closer to the back, leaving a polite distance of one chair between myself and the girl next to me. Then, as time was creeping just a few

The alarm from my phone startles me enough to open my eyes. I wake up dazed and confused trying to figure out what time of day it is. The bed creaks with every action I take while I try to maneuver my way down the painful ladder of my bed. 8:30 am displayed on the opposite side of the dorm room underneath my unconscious roommate’s bed. I run to the bathroom to take a quick shower before class and sprint to my 9:00 am class in Bradley Hall. The teacher for global analysis takes time out her class period to discuss 9/11 as a I pull out my book and laptop. The class mood slowly went down the longer the discussion continued. While she was nearing the end of her talk I remember that I am supposed to read An American Childhood for my ENG 101 class, taught by Phil, later that day at 6:00 pm. While having that notion in my head I decide to look up the article on my laptop thinking it is only several pages.

Tic! Tic! Tic! Jerry was about to go down. The best moment of his life. His best friend was right next to him about to experience the same as he. Ah! It was all a dream. He woke up and ran downstairs ready to munch on some breakfest. He saw his mom making bacon and eggs (his favorite). After he ate his breakfast he was excited to get a call from his best friend John who had a lot of questions.Finally John asked,“Can you go to the amusement park today?”

What a beautiful day. Sun’s out, flowers are all bloomed, boys playin’ baseball at the ballpark across the street. Today just couldn’t be better. I see those boys and I can’t help remembering what could have been. I am now 73 but when I was younger, I was a natural ballplayer. Baseball was my life. I would get compliments almost daily of how well I’d played the night before. It was my life. Suddenly in the middle of nowhere I seemed to be growing younger! The world around my was changing! As all this was happening I walked down to the ballpark. I was my 12 year old self! My old buddies, most of whom had now passed away, were playing. “Ryder! What’s up man?” Julian said. I was so startled that it was actually him I was nearly brought to tears. After a warm welcome from my buddies, Jackson tossed me a bat and told me I was up at the plate. I stepped into the box, I could smell the dirt, the grass, everything. It was so wonderful. I picked up some dirt, rubbed it on my hands and was ready to go. Jackson came set, ready to deliver the first pitch I’d seen in the last 50 some odd years. He lifted his leg, pulled his arm back, and strode towards home plate. The ball left his hand, I could see every seam, every dirt mark on that ball. I started my motion, the ball was right there. All I could focus on was hitting that dang ball.

“WOO-HOO!” MRJEFF exclaimed. He had just found a $100 dollar bill soaked into the ground. He picked it up and kept walking to work. It was the early morning, the frost was still nipping at his skin and the sun was barely creeping its way over the mountains to the west. Today MRJEFF felt surprisingly happy today. Normally he was always unhappy as his full name was MRJEFF Jeff. He was always being made fun of even as an adult. He arrived at work and all his co-workers greeted him sarcastically.

Saturday, a day beloved by many due to its relaxing nature. I would think a Saturday like this one, would be the ideal day to remain home, far from the anomalously large crowds gathering downtown for the 150th Canada Day celebration, however, I knew going was inevitable. Regardless of whether it was willingly or not, I was going. My grandmother’s sister’s husband’s brother’s daughter's daughter (who I will refer to as my ‘aunt’ (though she is more like a distant cousin)), her husband (my ‘uncle’), and her 2 daughters (my ‘cousins’) had come all the way from a suburb in the United States for this day and consequently, my mother would not allow me to remain home.

This 4th of July was the worst day of my life! I got my hand chopped off in my Dad’s meat grinder in our family store. It hurt so much that I screamed at the top of my lungs. My Dad came rushing in and told Ray, an employee, to call our doctor. When Dr. Cupernail arrived, from then on was a blur for me. I woke up in the hospital, and that was when they told me that I didn’t have a left hand any more. It seemed like I was in the hospital forever when they finally said that I could go home. From then on, I knew that my life would be different. I got home and my sister, Ellie, was like a servant to me, which was kind of nice. My mother wasn’t going very easy on me even though I had just lost a hand. She still made me work in the family business and do chores around the house. It felt like she was pushing me even more than when I had two hands! Doing daily things, like tying my own shoe, was difficult now. Also, when I was out in the public, everyone was staring at me and acting weird around me. But, I knew one thing was for sure, I was never going to be able to make the Summer League Baseball team. Although, I still wanted to practice baseball and learn how to get around playing with one hand. Eventually, I got really good with the help of a kind man who gave me a right handed glove. I learned these techniques on how to throw and catch with one hand by sliding the baseball mitt back and forth. When summer was over and school started, more and more people began to stare and ask

This day has been the longest day. I have been looking forward to going out trick or treating with all of my friends for weeks and finally it is tonight. But could the clock go any slower, ticktock, ticktock. I really believe the clock is going as slow as a turtle. It is finally Thursday, the thirty-first of October, but I really don't believe it is ever going to be six o'clock in the evening. At least it is a nice night out and no rain in the forecast. You couldn't ask for a better night to go trick or treating than this magnificent 70 degree evening. I guess, I might as well get into my costume and be ready when all of my friends meet in front of my house.

I thought this summer day would be the best day, I woke up at 9:00 a.m the bright sun was peeking through my window and the birds were chirping. I didn’t have to worry about getting ready fast to make the bus or do any homework. My mom finally had a day off work and we were going to go shopping and go swimming.

February 22, 2012- a day I will always remember, possibly because perhaps it is by far the worst day of my life. Losing someone very beloved, someone very close to you is a tragedy, now imagine me, a 10 year old experiencing this for the first time, it was a very rough experience for me, from this experience,however, I learned that it is true what they say, death does bring people closer together.

I wish I could say I would never forget but truthfully some of it I have or actually maybe I have not forgotten but more like tucked it away in my unconscious mind and only think about it when triggered. I am talking experiencing the worst day of my life! It happened Aug 19, 2005 which I actually had to ask my mom the exact date because I have totally blocked it out. I am speaking of a horrific accident that my oldest son Kestan now 14, when he was 8 yrs old put his hand in a electric meat grinder and lost more than half of his hand! I suffer from PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is defined as a disorder that follows a distressing event outside the range of normal human experience and