The Night - Original Writing

Looking into her eyes, I realized that she was not as happy or as content with life as she showed herself to be. Beneath her sprightly demeanor, she hid her disappointment and loneliness.

Plato, James Madison, and John Mills are all supporters of the idea that opinion must be discussed in public debate. In my own reason-based thought this idea that through silence ignorance grows louder is my own general understanding.

I never will understand this day to the fair and what all happened, I don’t think anyone will. I just know that one animal ruined a month for me. It was the week right before fair, and all I did was walk my cow. It was the first time ever showing a cow, my brother convinced me that it would be a fun learning experience. That didn’t happen at all for me when I walked into that show ring with a 1,100 pound steer. I was up at 4:00 a.m. the morning of the show, and I was ready to go wash my cows and get them ready for the show.

My mother was out of town, so I knew it was not her. I grew afraid of the strange woman in my house, the maroon-colored walls in my bedroom was giving me an ominous feeling, making my room look stained with blood. I went quietly out of my door and down the hallway, knowing that they were arguing in the kitchen by the volume of their voices. I paused in the middle of the hall, unsure whether to continue or to go back to my bedroom. I only decided on the former after I heard a muffled shout and the woman’s voice laughing. This decision was the biggest mistake of my life.

Rion calmed from his night terror easily, and he and Percival went back to sleep. When morning arrived, Rion shot out of bed with a grin, full of his typical energy. He had no memory of his tears and screaming the previous night, which was just as well; the boy deserved peace after all the heartache he had weathered.

I was devastated, how could this have happened? Why my grandfather? Is he okay? All of these thoughts came pounding in and out of my head, and I could not stop them! There I was sobbing in the kitchen looking completely mortified and no one is doing anything! The worst part was that I had to go to school looking like a complete mess! Imagine this a third grader coming into school,with eyes looking like Lake Michigan. People are going to stare, and teachers are going to be worried. What do you think happened, just that

I asked my mom “what’s wrong,” she replied with a sorrowful “your Aunt Lisa is in trouble, we must leave now.” The worst part of all of this was my Aunt Lisa’s son was with us, Matthew. He did not know what to think or believe. No one knew the world would slowly start shattering beneath all of us that morning. We drove to her house, we saw ambulances and police cars driving by, that did not help our nerves at all. We finally arrived at her apartment, we never thought all of those emergency vehicles would be going there. My brother and I stay in the car since I was only eight and he was only eleven. My mom and cousin run into the apartment hoping to only find my Aunt had fallen and is unconscious, or she is passed out drunk, just let it be something that is not permanent. What they come to find is that my Aunt is laying on the floor, unconscious, but cold as ice. It was not from someone killing her, or us getting there too late. She had died twenty-four minutes before that phone

Then, my mom had just arrived from work, at Banner Gateway as a microbiologist, and a future Physician Assistant. Since she had just come home, she was extremely exhausted after working from 7:00 p.m to 6:00 a.m, so she went straight to sleep. After the most amazing breakfast ever, my dad, little sister and I left the house at 7:53 a.m, as I remember exactly. Everything was perfectly normal, until my dad got a call. We still hadn’t left our neighborhood when my aunt had ever so mysteriously called my dad screaming over the cell phone. After hearing this, I knew something really terrible happened and would effect my family forever. I wasn’t sure what happened, but I was willing to figure it all out. My aunt lived in the same neighborhood as my family, so we turned the car around and zoomed towards her house as fast as we could. As my father opened his door and hustled out of the car, I had

I panicked because I didn’t want her to cry again. I didn’t want her to cry anymore. I told her to stop, but her soft tears went into loud sobs. I started crying because I was petrified. I felt nervous, and my hands felt clammy. My hands were still cold. The rain was still pouring. My brother was still sleeping. But why can’t I be still? I reached my fingertips to her cheek so I could wipe her tears away. At first, she cried even more, but as I wiped more tears, she started to calm down. Then I felt calm. I felt her heavy breathing, her chest heaving from her loud sobs. She finally stopped crying, so I stopped too. She breathed in deeply a few times and exhaled so hard like the pain would leave from her body. Her eyes were on the road, and her hands were tightly gripped to the steering wheel. Her hands were exactly at the ten and two positions. She wore her pretty blue shirt that sheered at the sleeves with small black roses. It nicely clung to her delicate frame. She even wore her favorite hair clip, two flowers with a diamond encrusted at the middle. My mom was so pretty. If it wasn’t from the running mascara, one would think she was definitely breathtaking. Why would anyone make such a pretty face so sad? Why would anyone make my mom sad? I don’t want to see her sad anymore. She felt the intense stare that I was giving her. It probably made her

It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she

Upon arriving to our apartment, my sister, brother, and I shared three hours of endless stories my mom had missed. Soon after, my parents decided it was time for bed. Having lost in a round of rock, paper, and scissors, I was forced to sleep on the floor with my parents while my sister and brother took over the bunk beds. Within a couple of hours into falling asleep, I woke up around 3’o clock from the floor vibrating with the bass notes from the bar downstairs. Scattered memories of my grandma suddenly rushed into my head: all the times I vented to her about how much I didn't want to go to piano lessons; the times I cried to her, limping back home with a bloody scraped knee; and the times we laughed together as my baby brother tried to talk to SpongeBob and Patrick through the TV. The last memory was the final straw, and I was ready to explode with the welled up tears from trying to seem like I had it all together. Still trying to hide my true emotions, I banged my head against the wooden leg of the bunk bed in an attempt to cover the true source of the teardrops. After hearing the loud thump, my parents immediately woke up asking me, “What’s wrong, what happened,” and going along with being the boastful kid I was, I responded, “I hit my head on the bed.” My mom replied, “Everything will be okay.” But everything was not okay because my grandma should have been next to me but instead, she was half way across the world.

It was a Saturday morning, I awoke to the sounds of muffled arguing in the next room. I lay in my bed, waiting for the sounds too cease. Not wanting exit my room and get caught in the crossfire of an intense argument between family members. After what felt like ages, the feud ended, making it safe to creep out my bedroom door and into the hallway, too where the land-line telephone was ringing. I pick up the phone and press the button labeled 'talk.' The other side of the phone line cracks to life, and I hear a warm familiar voice asking, “Are you okay?”, It was Joann, She had heard the commotion that had erupted from my home, As she lived on the other side of the road that divided our street. I thought for a moment, and replied, “ I don't want to

Then it’s like the floodgates of the Hoover Dam opened up. All you can hear is her crying and bawling her eyes out. Then Brilee runs into the house grasping her right arm. At this point I thought basically thought that I had to be in some serious trouble, so I ran in after her. When I get into the house I see that Brilee’s sitting on the table with the rest of my family around her. My two brothers are trying to comfort her. Then my Dad puts pressure on her right arm. She screams bloody murder! My mom tells me to go down stairs to get her an ice cream sandwich, which in my family were to calm us down when me got hurt or had to get a splinter out. So I run downstairs grab one and bring it back up Brilee. Then Brilee, and my Parents just left and I really didn't know what was happening at the time but looking back it was pretty obvious they were going to

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular

It was May 17th, 2011, it was a normal school day when my brother and I were told that my mom called to say that she was picking us up early. I was anxious, wondering why we were going home early and breaking our usual routine. When my mom came to get us, the first thing that I noticed was that she didn’t greet us with her usual smile. I was 9 years old, very observant, but not able to sense what was to come. We got into the car, when I asked my mom where we were going hoping