The Hardest Days Of My Life

It’s the day I have to move to the army's campsite. I grab my bag and swing them on my shoulder, it weighs a ton it feels like my shoulder’s gonna break. Sophie was peeking through my room door, as I was about to stand up she ran to the living room curled up into a ball making loud thud and sobbing noises. Outside of the house, I hug my mom as tight as I could, I don’t want to move any single inch of my bone. I want to stay like this forever. I felt a drop of water behind my shoulder and I know that it was her tears. I don’t want to leave them but I have to. It was time to let go but she didn’t want to, I grab her arm and slightly push them back.

I need you home now.” This was my wakeup call and I knew that I had to hurry home. “I’m coming home now mom. I’ll be there in a bit. Everything is going to be alright.” Keeping my composure I went to the NHS president and told her that I had a family emergency and that I had to go. For some reason she was giving me a hard time about it but after seeing my eyes she asked if everything was alright. I just said I had to go and she finally let me go without asking anything further of me. I darted out of the cafeteria doors taking a right on the first floor hall way on the east side of the building and then a left I went through one of the schools entrances on 59th court. I live on the same street as the school just three miles away. At that moment I felt stranded. I did not have my “proper gear” to run it as fast as I could and at the time for some reason I did not bring my car to school. However, I knew I had to get home fast so I took off. As the cars passed me I lost myself in my head. I was not crying or even sad. I was unsure of how I should react. Then the thoughts of what if I never get to talk to him again ran through my head. That is when the tears started to pour down my cheeks as I continued to pant.

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

I sat on the stairs with tears streaming down my face. I look up, sobbing as I wipe the snot from my nose. “This is goodbye for now, but I promise I will see you soon”, my dad had said as he held me. I grabbed onto my dad’s shirt as he tried to put me back down on the stairs and I felt as if my whole world came crashing down. Growing up with divorced parents was a challenge, but it has changed me drastically and for the better. I had to take care of my younger brother during the divorce, which made our relationship stronger and would mature me more than I would ever actually realize.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

“I don’t feel so well” Jan’s father had suddenly said one morning at breakfast. Her father, a World War II veteran, stood up and went to go lie down. The rest of the family continued with their day. Michael went to see how his father was. When he tried to wake him his father didn’t respond or make a sound. The 11 year old boy was the one who first knew that his father was gone. The memory of her father’s loss is vivid in Jan’s mind. It was a substantial shock after he had survived the horrors of World War II and then just passed away quietly at home one morning. Jan now understands how

I vividly remember that chilly night in March as I walked out of Fifer, the building my father now calls home, for the first time. I had goosebumps, but they were not from the cold I felt hit my skin. Instead, they were from the sickness in my stomach. As I got in the car, I began to cry and had to stop myself from running back inside. My entire world had turned upside-down. How could I go home without my father? How could I leave him in a nursing home, a place where he was too young and mentally fit to be confined? I had to fight the feeling that he didn’t belong. I had to remind myself of why he chose to be there, and I hated it.

As I jotted down the answer to my geometry homework, I felt the vibrations of the floor trembling beneath my feet from the deafening screams of my parents. I continued my work, as I go uninterrupted by the daily routine argument. One day, I didn’t hear the screaming anymore, which was one of the biggest abnormalities in this household. I slunk halfway down the stairs and stretched my neck over the banister to catch a glimpse of what had happened without getting caught. The next thing I knew my older brother was standing by my side, his curiosity piqued. My mom broke the silence by peering her head around the corner of the living room, her eyes locked onto mine. As my brother and my cover were blown, we walked gingerly to the couch and sat down. I watched my mom’s stone cold face quiver out the words, “We...are....divorcing”. My face froze as if I was in a cartoon show. I tried to

I heard a feminine voice call out to me as I blazed out the front door. "Good morning Amber! Oh, where are you--" I cut her off with a sharp slam. I couldn't look back. With each step towards my car, I inhale painful sobs of air. I feel as if I don't know who I am, as if I was that 18 year old girl hearing the news of his death for the first time. I couldn't think of the name that belongs to me, or any one else but my father. Any face my subconscious offers had the resonance of a total stranger, then was replaced with the haunting image of

I heard the click of the lock and my mom pushed the door open. We were greeted with an excited Coco. Her tail would wag furiously from left to right, making a thumping noise against the furniture and shakes her entire body in the process. My shoulders relax, and I did not realize how good it feels to be home. My brother pushes past me. The stench coming from his dirty and ripped up football jersey made my nose wrinkle. He rushes ahead to take a shower before dinner. That’s when a familiar smell hits me. A growling noise came from deep inside my stomach, wanting to be fed after a long tiring Thursday at school.

We walk back to the shelters to get some sleep, and I sit there awake for a minute until my father falls asleep. In the morning when I awake, my father is very sick, so I take him to the doctor. The doctor rejects to help because he is a surgeon. I take my father back to the shelter to let him rest some more. I leave him to go outside to get more coffee. I think back to all the things me and my father have been through. Losing my mother and sister will always reply through my head, remembering them holding hands and moving off to the left, and my father holding onto my hand, and we walking away from them. The last thing I got to do was just look into there eyes and turn and walk away. Once I got back I found my father not there. I knew where he had gone, they had taken him to the furnace. I dropped to the floor wanting to cry, wanting to have a fit like a normal teenager. Deep into his feelings he thought “Free at last.” He was free to only think about surviving, and not to worry about anyone but himself. I will miss my father. I love him. I will never forget how much he did for me, he is the reason why I am still

It was a breezy, warm, peaceful day. The sun was setting, and the sky was painted an array of pink, orange and yellow. the clouds stretched long across the sky, and the pale glow of the moon was beginning to show. While my little bro Aj and I were biking around the neighborhood, our mom yelled out “CHASITY! AJ! Come inside now!” “Dinner time hah Aj?” I asked. “Hopefully, I’m hungry!” he replied while biking full speed towards home. When we got there, turns out dinner was still cooking, so me and Aj just sat on the couch in the living room with our parents. “Aj, Chasity, your dad and I have something to tell you.” mom said. Then dad replied with a stern look “Your mother and I, have decided to move to California…” “We are going to start packing soon… And we’re leaving around August 18.” I had a mini heart attack, “WHAT?! YOU NEVER TOLD US! I had plans with my friends already for the upcoming school year...” I thought to myself sadly. Shocked by the news, I just said “Ok.” and walked to the hallway to pet my fluffy dog Rexx for comfort. While petting him, I felt a lump under his fur on his hind leg. I thought nothing of it, and kept on petting him.

I haven’t slept in weeks, the thought of mom’s death has been creeping in more and more lately. Ever since that night things have never been the same and I find myself enraged at the world around me. Dad made Autumn stop dancing, the thought of her dancing reminded him of how mom had loved dancing and how it had caused her death. Little did he know she never stopped, she trained in secret, and I supported her along the way. Autumn was the only one who was there for me after mom died. We became closer to each other, our own support systems in a sense. That was until she left me to be with Sylvia. I was alone, and when I needed her most she left me. I still had my girlfriend Claire, but we were growing apart. When she left too, what life I had left finally shattered. Leaving me to deal with the impact in solitude.

Throughout my life, I’ve gone through everything that could possibly put me in emotional distress. I’ve been down a broken road with my father, the man I love so much I’ll make every excuse for whenever he disappoints me. I’ve encountered life where it’s not so enjoyable due to unacceptance and never ending judgment by my biggest critic, my mother, the woman whom I should feel most secure with. However despite the emotional mounds of pain these matters carry, I was able to lift the suffocating weight long enough to realize everything that burdened me, made me strong enough to have the will power to be independent and make life changing decisions on my own. At three years old, I met my biological father in a local supermarket’s parking lot; I remember vividly, the exact moment when this stranger held me in his broad, strong arms. I recall screaming at an immense volume not even laying eyes on him. All I had been focused on was finding my mother, the woman who played both parental roles in my life. This clearly justified the great state of confusion I was in in his presence since I wasn’t at all aware I even had a father. As I grew older, the visits to my father’s house became the norm and having begun developed a “best friend” type of relationship with him, I found myself crying more and more when I had to go back to my mom’s settlement. I never wanted to leave; my life became filled with happiness, filled with a father’s love I had never felt

He had stood in the dark, gloomy doorway — illuminated only by the small front porch light — mute and motionless for a few seconds; he had been preparing not just himself, but me too for what he was about to reveal. I guess that somewhere deep down I knew what it was the whole time. I mean, they were gone for many hours and only returned around one on a school morning; what else would that mean? He hesitantly approached. Even a few feet away, the medicinal scent of the emergency animal hospital radiated off of him. He peered down into my eyes; that’s when he finally said it. “I’m sorry, Hun, she’s gone.” He was talking about my Golden Retriever, Kylie, who meant more to me than anyone or anything in life. As he finished, tears started