Autobiography It was my birthday when I found out that we were moving for sure. My world felt like it was just crashing down. Things my parents said echo throughout my head. “Washington was never any good for anyone,” and “Iowa is a dead state anyway, there’s nothing here for you.” I was sitting back, hoping no one would notice the tears that were flooding my eyes. There were at least ten thoughts going through my mind at once. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. This was my home; this was where I had grown up. When my parents broke the news to me, I knew my life would never be the same. I wouldn’t get to visit my friends, or my family as often as I’d like anymore. So I thought. The next couple months after that my older sister, …show more content…
It was making me sick. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t even focus on my school work. I was so close to failing everything. My heart was sinking farther and farther down. It was almost as if I had been poisoned. I was shutting down. My heart couldn’t take all the emotions I was feeling. It was then I realized to make anything better for myself I had to open up to my sister and explain everything my heart and mind was thinking about. Later, after I had opened up to my sister, we talk about it all. She made me realize she didn’t do it because she felt obligated to, but she did it because she wanted to. Suddenly, it feels as if the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. I could feel what it was to laugh again. She wanted me here as much as I wanted to be here and I wouldn’t trade the hardships with my sisters over anything. After all the talks my sister had with me, she was no longer my sister, and was no longer my caregiver, she was my best friend. This is something that had never occurred to me before. It was terrifying. I had never really been one to open up to anyone. In my family, silence was key to everything. That’s always how I’ve been taught to get through
Before, I could even take note, it was already October. It was time for me to pack everything in my room, and say my final goodbyes to my family members. I was going to leave everything that meant a lot to me behind. Previously, before October, we picked up my dad from the airport so that he could help us load all of our belongings to the U-Haul truck. Lily, ‘my cousin’, (we aren’t related, she is just a very close friend who I consider family) was staying with use because she want to see her father, who was also living in Denver. My mom and dad, sister, uncle, cousin, and I all stayed at the house one last night. I remember that my sister said that all her friends gathered around my mom’s car to wave goodbye to her. Her closest friends got very emotional and they started to cry. Not only did the move affect me, it also affected my sister greatly. It was like someone had given her a punch in the stomach. By the next day, we had everything in the U-Haul truck, and it was time for me to leave my precious Vegas behind. We had now started the drive to
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
I will always remember the effect of a civil war in Nigeria that left hundreds of thousands of children malnourished. Tens of thousands of the rural population were afflicted with different types of diseases. Malaria fever was prevalent, and it was the main cause of death among children and infants. I can recall vividly sitting in an empty room after the end of the civil war in 1970, and assured my self that I must go beyond the confines of my continent – Africa to seek knowledge so as to assist in alleviating the suffering of my people. After I had graduated from high school, my dream of coming to the United States of America was far fetched reality. At that time in my life, coming to America was almost impossible. My family lost everything during the civil war. The civil war forced my parents to abandon their properties in the northern group of provinces, and returned to their ancestral home in the southern region. The soil is sandy and porous – the region suffers from soil leaching and soil erosion due to torrential rainfall. Harvests from our farms after six months of toiling under the heat of the sun were scanty. We barely eked out a living. Life then was harsh, and the future was blink. In spite of the odds confronting me, I was determined to forge ahead no matter what.
I had no place to call home. My mom had not come to visit me one time, and I had only received a hand full of letters from her. She told me in those letters that she was sick, and I couldn’t live with her (She died of cancer a little over a year after my release). My twenty-three-year-old brother was a drug addict, so I didn’t want to live with him. With no place to live, I would end up in a state halfway house or some other type of group home. For someone who was about to turn sixteen, this was a lot to deal with. The last two hours of my bus ride, which were supposed to be the happiest part of the trip, turned into the worst. The tension in my heart was almost unbearable now. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and was clinching my heart in an angry fist. My eyes teared up from the
Within a week of finding out my dad was gone forever, me along with my eight brothers and sisters, my recently widowed ( and pregnant ) mom, and a handful of personal items left the comfort of our small Charleston, home and were packed up in a van and shipped off to Memphis, Tennessee to start a new life. The wound of my father's death was still so raw that I refused to accept that the strange city of Memphis was my new home, and that somehow my father was alive and well, and all we needed to do was go back to Charleston and be with him. And as days in Memphis turned to weeks ,and then months, the realization and acceptance of my new life set in, and I began to embrace Memphis as my new home. as the years passed I made
When I finally found my words I asked what was going on and my mother told me that my sister was in a car accident. When we arrived at the scene all I could see was my sister’s car sideways in the middle of the road with the entire front of it smashed up towards the windshield. As I looked around I saw my sister, emerging from a tan SUV I had never seen before, running towards my parents. The ambulances began to arrive and I was in my sister’s arms when I realized that there was no other damaged car at the
When I was younger I thought my sister was always going to be there. I never thought she would die so young. She died when I was in 5th grade so I was around 10 or 11 years old. We had our fights and now I wish more then anything that she was here. She missed my first homecoming, my graduation and many other important dates in my life and there is still more she will miss. Now that I'm the only child in my household, it’s terrible because...
Everything seems like it’s falling out of place, it’s going too fast, and my mind is out of control. I think these thoughts as I lay on my new bed, in my new room, in this new house, in this new city, wondering how I got to this place. “My life was fine,” I say to myself, “I didn’t want to go.” Thinking back I wonder how my father felt as he came home to the house in Stockton, knowing his wife and kids left to San Diego to live a new life. Every time that thought comes to my mind, it feels as if I’m carrying a ten ton boulder around my heart; weighing me down with guilt. The thought is blocked out as I close my eyes, picturing my old room; I see the light brown walls again and the vacation pictures of the Florida and camping trip stapled to them. I can see the photo of me on the ice rink with my friends and the desk that I built with my own hands. I see my bed; it still has my checkered blue and green blanket on it! Across from the room stands my bulky gray television with its back facing the black curtain covered closet. My emotions run deep, sadness rages through my body with a wave of regret. As I open my eyes I see this new place in San Diego, one large black covered bed and a small wooden nightstand that sits next to a similar closet like in my old room. When I was told we would be moving to San Diego, I was silenced from the decision.
There have been tons of things that I have learned and been taught in my life, by a number of people such as family, teachers, or even friends on occasion. The things they taught me vary from math and other related subjects to just some truly simple yet meaningful life lessons. However, there is nothing quite as unique, quite as special as a person teaching themselves a life lesson. It really is an amazing accomplishment for a person to teach themselves something. It is not quite as simple as another person teaching them something because it is not just the transferring of information from one person to another. The person instead has to start from scratch and process the information they have in their mind in order to come up with a new thought
Even though I clearly remember all the sanity me and my little family went through. I never wanted them to know their mother just up and disappear on them. I took a deep breath and was about ready to tell them the whole truth. They already knew too much. But right before I could speak, I became suddenly unspoken-less. They gave me this look, not a look of sadness, more like a look of pride and honor. They both huddle close to me and gave me a hug. The words that came from their mouths next. I 'll never forget
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
Two-thirds of children who participate in extracurricular activities are expected to attain at least a bachelor’s degree, whereas only half of children that do not participate do (National Center for Education Statistics, 1995). Childhood is a very important time in our lives, a time when we develop many vital skills that follow us into adulthood. Some people laugh or scoff at us parents that keep our children to busy schedules. Those same people would also argue that our children should be allowed to have a childhood, to not be so tightly scheduled in their daily lives. Before jumping on that bandwagon, I would suggest doing a little research. Participating in after-school activities has shown to benefit children in many ways. Children should
From that night on, my mom and I became so close. I knew that I was able to talk to her about anything, and every once in awhile she would check up
The most important event in my life, didn’t even happen to myself, but happened to my older sister, Becky. The reason I am writing about her is because the things that have happened to her and the things she has done in the past have affected me tremendously as well as my family. Her life used to be filled with nothing else but drugs, stealing, and lying. My family has never been the same since then.
I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.