Personal Narrative: The Worst Day Of My Life

I got two hours of sleep that night because I woke up at seven in the morning. This was the worst day of my life. I had to help my mother pack our things as she sobbed uncontrollably. I also thought I would never get to be with Matt 's sons again, who I had known since I was eleven. They were like brothers to me and they were the only people who understood what each other was going through when it came to family issues like this. I thought I was never going to get to act like idiots or have serious conversations with them again.

That morning one of them was walking around the edge of the lawn by the forest and I could tell he was upset. I know that sounds like an obvious statement considering what was going on, but this is a person who never shows any emotion other than

I helped my anxious mother get ready to walk down the “aisle” (porch) to Matt. I watched her get her hair done and even got my nails done with her because she wanted me to. I pretended like this was all okay with me when in reality all I could think about was how much time I had left at home. Two more years I would tell myself. I only have two more years and then I can leave and never see this house again. This house filled with terrifying memories.

After the wedding everything went back to being bubbly and happy and fake. Completely and utterly fake. Every time I went back to her house for the four days she had us all I wanted to do was go back to my dad 's house in town. I’d think about all the things I wanted to do with him when we got back. Maybe we’d go for a ride on our skateboards at the flood wall. Or my friend could come over and we’d watch horror movies. I could play with his girlfriend 's children, chasing them around and tickling them. Just anything other than be at her house. I wouldn’t have to wait long to stay at my father 's house