The Story Of My Life

Ishmael remembers a time when he was truly happy. He says “standing there with my family,

I was born with a curious mind. When I was four years old, I enjoyed dissecting insects. It was fun exploring the structures of living organisms. Sometimes the grasshoppers I caught will blow a black liquid bubble from their mouths, which looked like it permanently stained the grass hopper’s upper body when popped. That practice sounds cruel, but I wanted to know the physical differences between humans and arthropods. During that same age, the importance of religion intrigued me. I wondered the reason people devoted themselves entirely to a religious book, that according to the religious believers, was created by God. My mom always told me, “God is a God, because he has never performed a sin”. After my mom telling me those controversial words, I did not understand why my Catholic Bible book said that the people who have broken some of the ten testaments from the Bible would go to hell. Why would they go to hell? I thought God supposed to always do the right thing, but not forgiving someone is the wrong thing, right? Clearly, religion was a very confusing topic to me when I was a girl.

Almost everyone has a unique or interesting experience in their lifetime. But I would say mine tops the list. Here’s my story. When I was in my Freshman year in High School, it was quickly approaching Christmas break, and I was feeling excited to be out of school after the difficult semester I had been through. Every year my family and I would travel somewhere for Christmas break. We’d usually go skiing in Red River, New Mexico or would go visit some family members in Chicago. This year we decided to go somewhere different. After we had spent time debating where to go, my mom suggested that we go to Alaska. We all agreed and planned the trip.

Monday morning came and I couldn’t fucking believe this shit, out of four classes me and Haley had three together. Tuesday Morning and I couldn’t believe this shit again, out of two classes we were in both of them together. I thought about changing classes, but then what Kev said hit me like a ton of bricks. Why cry over it instead start working on making her mine. Honestly I didn’t know how to do this so like a sucker for the first week I snuck and stared at her. After a week or so, we ended up in a four person group to work on a group project. Just my luck, but hey it is what it is. The group met up in the library twice a week until we had the project completed. Once the project was completed, a few people decided to have a get

Someone had to build this place. They planned the construction somewhere in the middle of Indiana. A county clerk stamped a piece of paper, a contractor got hired at a reasonable rate, a date was decided. The date was moved, negotiated, moved again. This is how it works. When the weather was right and the union was satisfied, they could pour the concrete into the foundation, put iron bars up, and fill it with people. Only then was it finished.

They began talking about writing people up regarding certified pieces and his leave time having to be put in on a Friday. He said “No, things are fine,” regarding writing people up.” He was talking about her cursing at him earlier in the morning and she said, “This is how we do.” He will say it and she will deny it to the fullest. He said, “you her hear right?” He said, “Let him get out of here,” joking and she said, “yeah before you get yourself in trouble because of what I’m smelling.” He points to the water bottle on her desk and says, “you sure it not you, or what you got in there.” She said, “Get out of here,” and then he left. I was send back out to help Marina on Route 9.

It had been 41 hours since I’d last seen Finch, my older brother. In a family of 4, three of said amount remain absent from home. I’m usually home alone during the day, which realistically doesn’t bother me. What does bother me is when Finch doesn’t show up to say goodbye or hello. I wake up and he’s not there, I go to sleep and he still is gone.

“No,” I said, blinking my eyes and smiling, my tone etched with irritation, “I’m pretty sure it’s Sarah Johnson, I believe she had brown curly hair? Gees did nobody remember me? Remember Sarah Johnson!

In life, we all face The Good The Bad and The Ugly. Some let the bad control them, some let the good control them, and others let the ugly get the best of them. It's how we view life that can help us determine how we live our life. The highest point in my life was when I had my sweet sixteen.

The afternoon prayers from the mosque down the block, drowned out the harsh metal sounds Mum was making with her pots and pans. I wondered when she got up to cook, an early riser myself, I heard her bustling about in the kitchen before dawn. The aroma of fresh rosemary and cranberries made my stomach make the most horrid noise, as I had skipped breakfast, but for this occasion, it was worth the wait.

Jenny A. Taylor was anxiously awaiting for a little ding to come from her phone. She made a dating profile online, and her phone would notify if someone messaged her. 'What if nobody likes my profile? What did I even write?' She was a little high when she was writing it afterall. She pulled out her phone and went on DreamPerson.

It wasn’t long before muddled footsteps approached us. “Just do as they say. It won’t hurt as bad” Adly whispered. Her hand was wrapped around mine when the door beeped and the air hissed. The footsteps have become clearer now.

I stared down at my city because I wanted it to be the last thing I ever saw. The dim, flickering streetlights, the occasional flashing headlight of a vehicle and the peaceful resplendence of a neighbourhood in the middle of the night almost made my heart ache. But there was no turning back. The big clock in the middle of the city showed half an hour to midnight.

I throw my books on the bed and approached the jack slowly, it was the one I asked for an astonishing leather jacket I was surprised my mom actually got it for me. Then I looked at my brothers bed and sall a gross ugly brown jacket on his bed with a little green stain at the top. It looked twice the size of him. I felt a little bad for him When I went over to touch the jacket i felt like my hand was touching a rugged dog. Then I looked at my new jacket and took the attention of his ugly brown jacket with a nasty old green staine. I decided to try it on. It looked perfect not too big not too small. I looked at myself in the mirror the combed my hair so it would have a flip. I looked exactly like a biker dood.

People don’t realize the sad truth that I’ve been holding on for and secretly suffering with most of my life. People seem to see me as a girl that is naturally bubbly, happy, and outgoing. This was a way for me to hide my real emotions in the time when my depression and anxiety were major factors impacting my self-esteem, just a couple of years ago. So, yes, I admit it -- I was a victim of depression and anxiety. My anxiety has been occurring ever since I was a toddler. My usual anxious behavior would be when I would easily get nervous, wouldn’t talk that well in order to be understood, would go through emotional meltdowns at times, and so forth. My depression however, seem to connect a lot with my anxiety because of my meltdowns and it would easily bring my self-esteem down. One interesting fact about my depression is that it got extreme when I was in middle school. Many events in that time of my life made me feel absolutely worthless inside.