The Worst Day Of My Life

Nine months later they were hoping for a boy, but a girl came and Mother was depressed. They gave me the name Kyilog, ‘Happiness Dashed’. Then Father was stricken with leprosy.

Morning arrived yet this time with a cheerful face of my mother and my healing brother’s smile. For the first time, this felt like home exactly, the way we lived 2 years back with warmth and happiness echoing in our house. I almost forgot the comfort of sitting on a couch or laying on a bed beside my mother. The aroma of her devouring food filled the house and the riddles of my ever loved brother never stopped, now, I had no need to keep track of

The following months a winter, cold and gloomy, surrounded the house. My grandmother came to stay with us since my father had fallen into depression and needed help taking care of my sister and I. When my grandmother went grocery shopping my sister would struggle with homework without my grandmother’s help. One day when my grandmother left to go grocery shopping my sister approached me, which was unusual of her since its very rare for her to come to me. Her dark brown hair and big eyes reminded me of my self when I was younger. “I’m hungry” she complained, a question she’s never asked me. My father sleeping and my grandmother away, I was the only one left to take care of her and that terrified me. I had never cared for or known how to care for someone else. All I knew was how to evaluate whether or not someone was caring for another correctly.

On my 5th or 6th birthday in Georgia, my parents told me the story of my special birth.

I was seven years old and it was in the middle of the summer and I almost got run over by a car. The day was going really good just like any other summer day; I got up, got dressed, ate breakfast, and went outside to play. For breakfast that day we had pancakes that tasted like they were made by angels. Before Chris and I went outside our mom yelled, “Be back by lunch or I’m going to send your dad out there to get you!”

My parents were set on girl names; if I was a girl, my name would be Lauren, after my Grandpa Loren. Thinking of a middle name became a little difficult. My mom’s mom name was MariLee, and my parents wanted to take something from her name. Finally making a decision, they chose to take the “Lee” out as my middle name. Naming a boy would be a little different; my parents wanted the name Dalton. The only reason behind that is because my mom liked the name; I beg to differ.

On Monday, July 24th, 2000, at 1:28 p.m., at St. Alphonsus hospital in Boise, Idaho, I, Lynzee McKay Misseldine, was born. I am the first born of two. Nothing worth writing down happened until September 3rd of 2001. That was the day my little sister, Maelie, was born. Eight days later, the 9/11 terrorist attacks happened. That is the first thing I can remember. I was holding my sister on the couch with my mom. She saw it on the news, and she called my dad. Mostly, I had a really great childhood. The biggest event in my life thus far, occurred on July 25th, 2007. My mom passed away the day after my seventh birthday. I am positive I could write a whole page about that day in particular. I could tell you about how I had slept on the floor the

I could not see her for she was wrapped in an old green rag. My heart pounded as I looked at her, tears leaving my eyes quicker than warmth in winter. I quickly went inside and bounded up the stairs to my room. I was shocked to see my bed completely bare, all essence of her gone, light shining through the windows of the bright, sunny day as if my world hadn’t just turned completely upside down. I don’t know how long I sat on the edge of my bed with a blank mind, unmoving. Finally when the skies were a mix of purple and orange, I heard a knock at my door. I honestly don’t remember what my parents said, because I had lost all energy and willingness to

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

My little sister was born in June, 2007. The weeks before her birth were filled with excitement since she was a late addition to our family. There were pastel pink themed baby showers, house visits overflowing with Pampers diapers, and elderly church ladies knitting sunset-yellow blankets. All the visitors asked the pre-requisite set of questions to my parents: “How is the health of the baby and mother? What is the gender? Are you excited? When is the due date?” and so on. What they failed to inquire about was the name of the

I was always a logical thinker, especially when it came time to choose a name for my daughter. I wanted my daughter to be able to stand out in a crowd, however not be too outrageous. Therefore, I wanted her name to be unique, but not too abstract. I also did not want my daughter to have a decrepit family name. I wanted her to be her own person, not to rely on someone else. I wanted her to be independent. It was a new century, between 1999 and 2000. I knew that this marked an era of my new life. Thus on new year's eve, me and my husband sat down for a wonderful family dinner with the mindset that we were going to pick a name that night. We browsed through the name book, looking for a name that met my criteria. My daughter was named Christine.

The hospital lobby was filled with the smell of hand sanitizer. I remember feeling the deep anticipation of seeing my little sister for the first time. The night before I remember overhearing my aunt on the phone, saying it was happening. Instantly, I figured out that it meant my mom was having the baby. Full of excitement, I woke up early the next day, rushed down the stairs, and woke my dad up. My first question was what is her name, but he said mom wanted to tell us all together when we went to the hospital in an hour. In response to this, I whined for ten minutes till he gave up and told me that it had to be our little secret. Her name was Narayani. We quickly drove to the hospital, where we spent three minutes getting visitor badges.

two hours of eating Cheetos and coke, while Watching Teen Titan on the small TV screen of the waiting room. My dad walked into the room. He informed us that Ximena had been born. Both me and Dulce got up. My Dad walked us to the room.

I don’t remember much about that day. That day led to a lot of bad things and dark days. I was in middle school, 14 or 15. I was feeling a little bit better after i woke up. I had already been gone for a week or more. It start out as a normal morning. I ate breakfast, got dressed, and did all of the essential things to get ready for school. My sister was already ready. She was going to highschool at that time. My brother was isolated in his room, my father was asleep. My mom is always up when we get ready to go to school. That was no surprise. Smokie one of our cats at the time was really old. My mom was was sitting on our couch using her computer. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was in the air. The sun was just coming up, but it was

It all started on September 11, 1962 on a sweet seemingly perfect day, there were no clouds to be seen and I was sitting inside in my little black and gold chair that I got for my birthday. I would sit in the chair and stare out the window waiting for my mama to get home. I sat there for at least for ten minutes every day and then that is when mama would pull up in the driveway. I ran to the door and stood there waiting for mama to walk through it. Mama opened the door and I ran straight towards her and gave her the biggest hug I good.