The Story Of Your Life Short Story

The voice in my head, normally so calm and controlled, was screaming at me to run. That was exactly what was going through my five year old mind when I walked around the hallway corner to see my mother being beat to her death by my biological father, Brax Magnus. As I tried so hard to stay and defend my mom, I could not help but panic and so I ran. I ran so far until I seen a small gas station. I went inside to find a phone, but realized I did not know who to call. The cashier, seeing that I was crying and looked panic, walked over to me.

It was a friday afternoon the sky was bright blue the sun was shining bright yellow and I Zack Allen was about to go to work he said by to his mom and dad.by’’said mom. I went out the door, I never get to work on time. I work as a junior detective. When I got to work, I almost got fired because I was late. After work i frowned. I wish i was faster.”I said. When I got home something amazing happened. I came home opened the door then ran up steers jumped on my bed and stared at my pet fish. Then a big storm came. I got out of bed and then looked out the window, sing nothing but a dosty shade of black. Suddenly my rofe flow open and a bright big blue lightning bolt strock me. I past out for a few hours. The next thing I know i was rushed to the hospital. My heart started beating very fast then it stopped for a minute, then started beating again.

My story begins at the age of six. I am standing in my school uniform with a stain on my shirt from the ice cream my mother gave me on the ride there. My little sister, Gianni, lay in hospital bed staring at the polysterene tiled ceiling. There was nothing much else to look at save the cheap print of an uplifting pastel on the opposite wall. The air had a stagnant smell of bleach and sickness. My parents paced back and forth occasionally glancing forced reassuring smiles to my sister. We heard a moan on the adjacent bed through the cubicle curtains. My sister began to cry. Panicking, I ran to her bedside and started singing Jesus Loves the Little Children a song I learned in Bible school the Sunday before. I look at my grandmother and she gives me a reassuring nod from across the room. My sister gives me a hug and drifts off to sleep. The doctors come a bit later and take her away.

Born in the cold winter night of December was a little daddy’s princess, Sarika. Yes, it’s me. I am Sarika. That’s the name I was given by my father. The meaning of name Sarika is a bird, a beautiful thing or a princess. Like every father, he chose this name for me because he already knew someday I’ll become independent and soar higher like a bird. From the moment he first held me in his arms and stared into my eyes, he knew that I was very special and had lots of hopes and dreams for the future. On the other hand, my mom was very disappointed that she gave birth to a girl again. She wanted a boy. She had already given birth to four girls. She hoped that fifth one would be a boy. But unfortunately, it was a girl again. In dismay, she even forgot to breastfed me. She wanted to adopt a boy but my father did not agree. My father explained to her that I was the gift of the God and no matter what gender I was, I am his child.

I long to be free. To be free from the metal chains that hold me down. To be free from the whispering as I descend into my empty slumber. My heart couldn’t handle the pain of the immortal whispers and figures that popped up here and there trying to help or drag me with them.

There was darkness. Nothingness. Except the excruciating pain. But with pain came existence, and with existence hope. Then, slowly, Jacob lifted his head from the ground. As his blurry vision cleared, many things came to him: the fire raging on the wing, the plane lurching as it fell, and the last frozen second before impact.

A mysterious island, an abandoned orphanage and a great collection of strange photos. I honestly don't know what I would have done without this book. It has actually changed my life.

It all started back in April, My friend Chanel began to mess with someone she had no business messing with. From there she knew she shouldn't be messing with this dude once she started to find out more about him. It was all kept from another friend and I because she felt ashamed and embarrassed to tell us. What in your everlasting mind would think this is okay. We didn't end up finding out until about 3 months later.

My mother destroyed her life with addiction but it would be a mistake to say I did not grasp the immense love in her actions. Throughout her turmoil, I began to appreciate the conduct of person rather than their words. I've received a phantom of a father, his words appear on Facebook timeline: _Merry Christmas to my kids and My Grandson. Dad Loves You and Miss You_. I can be honest and say his quick intention is to shroud the immense absence, the unfulfilling yet continually provoking hole, that he has given our family. I've taken action to fill that hole that has inured our family for too long.

I had always taken life as a joke or not that serious until this tragic event affected my whole life. It was just a routine day during summer break and life seemed pretty good until I received a phone call from my mom to come home as soon as possible. I then thought that maybe they had a surprise for me because it was close to my birthday.

In a long story short, I originally lived in Gypsum Colorado but moved away because my parents thought that we should be more helpful here instead of there, also wanted us to spend more time with our family relatives. We've started packing up on my year of middle school, then it was decided that we would move until I have graduated, though during our clean up I was confused of what to do with my life and even more so by thinking of how my future is going to be like. If we look at it from a kid’s point of view, life is great because everything is already planned out for them. But, in due time we all grow up and find out what skills we all possess, in which depends on our life experience.

As I am sitting by the bay window I start to see all the things that could happen instead of what is happening. I try not to be as negative as I am, I try to be the best did you see there that I tried to be positive for a second, but it just goes away, I don’t know why, it just feels as if I am walking on water and at that point as I feel free I fall right into the water just like that but you will know why. So, here I am telling you my story about my life,  my problems, and solutions this is how it all started.

It’s October 8th, just a normal Sunday, a work day. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down on the soft, grey couch.The House 51 alarm suddenly started blaring like a song being played over and over again on the radio, calling all trucks and ambulances to several different places, which meant that this fire was going to be dangerous and that it was going to spread very quickly. Everyone chaotically puts on their big black and yellow brush pants, steps into their wide, rubber boots, grabs their safety helmets and piles into the long scarlet red trucks. As we drive out of the house, I hear Main say Gabby’s law office’s address over the radio. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to process what I had just heard. My emotions got the best of me as I felt a single tear come down the right side of my face. It was nothing like I’ve ever felt before, breaking my ankle in the car accident months ago didn’t even compare to what I’m feeling right now, in this moment.

In 2016, David is a senior in high school. He was a Chinese American student at Burlington High School in the state of Vermont. The seniors entered the cafeteria. Their talking and thrilled laughter filled the building as they sat at their tables for lunch. Every item was so soggy, so bland, it was depression served cold. David and his friends sat down on the ramshackle, creaky table.

Hi Kim, I just wanted to tell you a little bit about my story. I got sucked in when I was 21. At the time I was already having a crisis of faith. On top of that I became incredibly disillusioned with college. I was in the wrong major but at the time it just felt like my life was going nowhere. I prayed to God whom I didn 't even know if I believed in, and the rest is history. They were the first people to come along and I was so weak at the time I could be swayed whatever way the wind blew. I had an incredibly pushy bible teacher that basically tried to befriend me then would threaten to quit studying the Bible with me if I wasn 't making progress. And guess who defined what progress meant. It wasn 't coming to know who God is and coming to love him and his son. It was doing the assigned watchtower tasks. So I did them and was just kind of drug along for the ride. Eventually I was baptized, pioneering and going along with the flow. I had my doubts I can 't remember a time when I didn 't at least have slight doubts. But at the time I was doing what they said, partaking fully in there brainwashing program.