preview

The Breaking Point - Original Writing

Decent Essays
Open Document

Everyone has a breaking point. I was close to mine. The walls felt like they were closing in around me. I was forced to walk in a single file line like a first grader. The only light was from the small openings in the rigid cement walls. My legs were screeching in pain. I have climbed hundreds of steps and it was unknown how many more. None of us had been here before. All I could tell was that we were going up fast and the ground was becoming farther away. The fear of plummeting to your death was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I remind myself not to look down but it was inevitable. I had to look. I would have not continued if it was not for the fact that you had to go up in order to go down. I knew that even though it was not …show more content…

I was left in my pajamas standing at the door with just the knowledge that breakfast was in an hour. I had no idea what we were going to do today. This left my mind to wander all of the things we could do, compiling a list in my head. After breakfast, we left the hotel and used our map to try and navigate where the subway was. It turns out the subway was only two blocks away, but thanks to my uncle it took us close to a half hour to get there. If we didn’t look like tourists, I don’t know what does. I mean it was clear we didn’t speak Spanish, but when you have adults holding up maps and screaming directions at each other it was pretty clear we were tourists, lost tourists. We thought getting to the subway was hard, but the real challenge was figuring out which line to take. Meanwhile, I had no idea where we were going. It was not like I could help much because I knew a very small amount of Spanish. Fifteen minutes of arguing later, we finally figured out that we have to take the red line and get off at the sixth stop. The train ride was quiet. The only sound was the hum of the train’s engine. When we got to our stop we got off quickly and climbed up steps that placed us back into reality. We were once again united with the busy streets of Barcelona.
…
“Mom, where are we going? Are we almost there?” I cried.
“Well, why don’t you see for yourself,” she called out.

I look up to see a church that was towering the city

Get Access
Related
Get Access