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When I was on a field trip with my fourth grade class, I never thought a day of fun would end so horrible and I would be scarred for life. It was pitch black outside by the time we reached school for our parents to pick us up. My friend Allan’s parents came to get us and about two miles before they dropped me off at home terror struck. At nine years old, this night changed my life and made me realize my strength. As we drove along the dark road, all I could think about was my cozy bed. All of a sudden there was a loud bang and Allan states, “Oh my God that was a gunshot.” I thought he was insane because I use the road we were on almost every day and nothing has ever happened. It wasn 't until his mother yelled, “Drive faster!” …show more content…
Allan was across from me tied up as well. His parents were not with us, but his mother could be heard crying and saying, “I don’t have a thing on me. Please let us go.” My mind was still trying to understand what, how, and why this was happening. Darkness overcame me again and this time when I woke up, breathing was hard and my body was restrained from the chest down. The attackers had somehow managed to fix the car and were driving us somewhere With Allan’s parents on top of me, I passed out for the third time. Water droplets hitting my face woke me up this time. An attacker was standing near me drinking my water, not knowing what was planned; I played possum still in the same position as in the …show more content…
They left us in a large field with long grass and pesky mosquitoes. Allan’s mother was the first to speak asking everyone if we were alright, with teary eyes, I said, “I want to go home and see my grandparents.” My hands got irritated from being together which caused me to fidget around and snap my left thumb. Able to slip my thumb from the bind, escape, and snap my thumb back in place, I crawled over to Allan 's father to see he had a black bag over his head, each hand tied to each foot. After removing the bag, his face was the size of a watermelon with bruises; furthermore, he was going in and out of consciousness. He was the only one who was hurt. When everyone was untied, we left the field and went to neighboring houses to get help but no one was awake at three o’clock in the morning. From the many walks with my grandmother, I was able to recognize where we were and how to get home. When we got home, my grandparents were very shocked about what happened and just thought we were running late. The first thing we did was rush Allan 's father to the hospital and I was able to sleep in my cozy
The reading “The Terror” by Junot Diaz is a story I can relate to because of the emotional and physical bullying I experienced in high school which I was able to curb after informing my parents who took immediate actions to put a stop to it. Junot Diaz was narrating his experiences with fear after getting beat-up as an adolescent.
As the coach dropped me off at my house, I realized something was terribly wrong, I saw my sister, Lizzie, sitting on the concrete steps in front of our house talking to the police, against her will it seemed, I saw our maid sitting in the shade,away from the scorching sun of August, under an old oak tree in distraught, and then I saw them. I saw my Dad, and my step mother … dead. They were being carried out by paramedics, on a stained off white stretcher, one at a time, my dad first, and then my step mother, Mrs. Borden.
I noticed that my father had fallen to the back of the pack, I was curious as to why he did such a thing. I was finding the trip very difficult as my legs hurt when I took a step. I heard the same man clear his throat, I looked behind me and I saw his machete unsheathed and raised in the air, I knew this was not going to end well for me. The man slashed at me with his machete. The pot I was holding fell and broke.
It was a dark cold night in December. Opening the door to their house, the den sat quiet as usual, but something else was different. Walking to the living room, I did not hear a voice that always greeted me with joy. There was no room for joy, or laughter anymore. When I sat down, my Pa Pa’s bed sat across from me. I could see the bones through his skin, the bagginess of his white t-shirt, and the sadness that rest in his eyes. On his lips, a smile no longer lived. “Hi Pa Pa”, I say as I walked over to k...
I didn't find another shack to sleep in, so I ended up sleeping on the ground under a fallen tree and some leaves. The dogs didn't find me but something else did. It was a hideous creature that was covered in burrs and blood. It came at me quick and clawed at me. I dodged it's paw and grabbed an axe that I found in the shack and swung fast and hard at the animal. The animal fell instantly. There was blood all over me and the ground. As soon as I figured out that it was dead, I dashed further into the woods. As I was running, I saw one of my cell mates stuck by a huge spike in his calf. His calf was gushing blood and he was screaming for me to help him. I decided to help him, so I pulled his leg off the spike, poured water on his calf, and quickly wrapped his leg with my shirt and using a thick, flat stick as a splint. Then, I spotted another shack about fifty feet away from the trap that my cell mate was caught in. I helped my cell mate to the shack and we stayed in it through the the
My whole life I have never been the greatest at reading, but I have always tried to improve and push myself to do better. Reading and writing areis twoone of the needs of daily life. With that being said, you can conclude that I have always struggled. My problem was I always read too fast through the books or writing prompts, and I never remembered what I had read. But, with help I overcame my problems and started getting better at reading and writing.
At the age of seven, my life changed forever. I was no longer living in my native country; I was now a fragment of the millions of immigrants who come to the United States in search of the American Dream. At the time, my father had recently lost his job and my mother was unemployed, which caused incredible financial stress for my family. My father decided to risk his life crossing the Rio Grande River for our family to have a better life and greater rewards.
The struggle of not being able to breathe properly, gasping for air while the fever inside was killing me little by little and my fragile self in the age of four did not know what was happening to me I was brain dead, more like clueless little kid almost having a near death experience of having a seizure that in the end it changed my life and the way I looked at it because God gave me another chance to actually prove to him that I can be someone in my life and grateful to be alive today knowing that I have family that actually loves me for who I am.
One thing that really bothers me is how much I changed. I used to play games all day, not focus on school, wouldn't get in serious trouble, and was very innocent compared to my present day self. There are cons and pros of my past self compared to how I am currently. I am more happy of how I am now then I am before. As time changes, so do I and I can not stop that. What’s done has already been done and can’t be changed so you always have to look towards the future and never the past. The past will not definite who you are today unless you let it. I would have never expect that I would be transferred to a continuation high school in my freshman year. It is a bad thing to many people, but I am thankful that I am sent to it because I will learn
It seems unbelievable my oldest is a few days off being a decade old. I know every parent wonders “where has the time gone?” a multitude of times during their children’s childhoods, but as I realize my son is over halfway to 'adulthood' it seems like the time has flown by.
Waking up to a new day. As I rise from my bed I look off into the distance of my bedroom. The bedroom of my house, my very own property. I sit up from my bed, and start contemplating whether or not this is all a dream. But no, this is reality. My reality. I thank you lord for another day it is still very surreal where I am in my life now. 30 years old, living in a 3 story house with two beautiful girls, twins as a matter of fact. A gorgeous view of the world around us, looking out the windows of this gigantic house you can see nothing but beauty. Life at its finest and purity. I always keep a bible and a cross by my bedside and never forget where I came from. The real me, is me. That will never change. Nor will it ever impact me as a father to my beloved children.
I wake up in this room. My mother is to my left crying with her face in the palms of her hands. My dad, he paces the floor with his hands in his pockets. I am scared I can barely remember what has transpired. As my mother stands and looks at me square in the eyes, the nurse comes and says with a grin on her radiant face “Hello, Mr. Howard. How are you feeling?” I attempt to sit up, but my body is aching. My dad hurries over to help, but it was no use the pain was overbearing. I began to weep and apologize. My dad with a stern look on his face says, “Andra, you are fine now just relax”. How could I relax? I am stuck in this room with no memory of what happened.
“Why don’t you use your locker? You’re going to have back problems before you even graduate”. These are words that are repeated to me daily, almost like clockwork. I carry my twenty-pound backpack, full of papers upon papers from my AP classes. The middle pouch of my backpack houses my book in which I get lost to distract me from my unrelenting stress. The top pouch holds several erasers, foreshadowing the mistakes I will make - and extra lead, to combat and mend these mistakes. Thick, wordy textbooks full of knowledge that has yet to become engraved in my brain, dig the straps of my backpack into my shoulders. This feeling, ironically enough, gives me relief - my potential and future success reside in my folders and on the pages of my notebooks.
I could "snooze" as my dad urged himself to go onward towards Arizona as he
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.