Personal Narrative Essay: The End Of My Life

I don 't remember like it was yesterday. I don 't remember what I was wearing or what time it was. I don’t remember the details of the day as if I had just lived it. Sometimes pieces of the day come back that I hadn 't previously remembered. Like when I ran outside with my face buried in my hands. What I do remember very clearly is the feeling of that day. At 12 years old I had never experienced such pain, such hopelessness. That day I remember feeling that my life had come to an end. I believed that even if I continued on this earth I would be merely surviving. That day was the end of my life. It was the phone. The phone sang its tone throughout the house. No one reacted but my mother. Nothing was abnormal. I might have heard my mother whisper

I will mention these memories to people laughing while saying “The day my cousin died… this and this happened.” They usually become uncomfortable and stare back with faces of disbelief. How could I possibly laugh when in the same sentence I said that my cousin died?
Well I 'm not sure when but on the same day I called my best friend since the 3rd grade. I told her the news. Being my best friend and simply feeling everything that I felt Chaela joined my sobbing. Now I have to say, Chaela is what you would call an ugly crier. Even over the phone she sounded ugly. In the midst of her sobs she said to me “and I started my period today at school.” I laughed as I was happy to change the subject to Chaela’s new found womanhood. The next call I made was to my “boyfriend” of the time. I put quotations around boyfriend because you must remember I was 12 years old. It being a friday night, my boyfriend Alexis and I planned on going to the football game together. I called him to inform him that because of the death of my cousin I wouldn 't be able to make it to the football game. Alexis, a 12 year old boy responded, “Oh thats ok I 'm going with my friends anyways so I wont be