Joshua Cox February 22, 2017 Narrative Wood 1 Imagine That It's September 5, 1948, my name is Jill Maroon. My mom just called saying that my dad had fallen very ill, and that I should come to them because he might be on his last breath. It usually takes about two days to counting the breaks for lunch, breakfast, and rests. But it wasn't a problem. I packed my bags and some leftover cornbread I cooked the night before as a snack for the road. It was around eight in the morning …show more content…
The owner thankfully said he'd keep the car for free since we were so pretty. That was the second time I was complimented, so again I became red. We rode up to a small motel, being as it's getting late. We got a room to share, it wasnt perfect, but we rested pretty good. In the morning we walked the kids around back to the pool where a sign read, “No Lifeguard, Swim At Own Risk” That made me feel uneasy. The kids ran around the front of the pool and jumped in one-by-one. I can't believe how they have grown. I guess my mothering instincts kicked in because I was scared the four year old might drown. Sarah had gone to the restroom when the youngest one jumped in wasn't coming back up. I didn't know what to do other than to jump in and grab him. I threw my shirt off and dived in after the boy. The water was cold as ice, I don't know how they could stand it. I grabbed the boy and swam up as fast as I possibly could. When I got up he laughed and said, “ Got you!” I became furious, but thankfully I didn't drown him myself. Sarah finally came back with a bundle of towels and some sunglasses they were selling in the lobby. That is so her, she get sunglasses from every state she visits. Sometimes she just makes no sense. I told her what happened and she busted out laughing. I thought she was the uptight one, so it surprised me when she reacted in that way. My good mood was tarnished. I made her get them …show more content…
I witnessed the birth of my sister’s child in 1944. I went to my family's’ Thanksgivings, Christmases, and birthdays. This had to be some kind of joke. The nurse walked out of the room. I walked over to the door and peeked around. I saw a familiar grey suit. I thought to myself that must be Kevin but his hair looks more blonde than the last time I saw him. I walked over to him and said, “Hey Kevin, It's me Jill, from the diner.” He looked at me with red eyes and the warm smile that I had once seen was gone. He said, “ Sorry Ma’am but I don't know you.” I looked into the room he was standing outside of. In there lay a woman that looked just like him, so I assumed that was his mother. Then I thought back to our conversation in the diner. He said his mom died of the flu. I went back to my room, confused. The nurse came back to the room and said the doctor would be a minute. The doctor finally came in and checked my levels. After that I said, “Call my mom and tell her it's Jill and that I'm alright.” Then he said, “ Who’s
“Well, Alice, my father said, if it had to happen to one of you, I’m glad it was you and not your sister” (57). Even though Alice was the victim of the horrid crime, she had to stabilize her own emotions, so that she could help her sister cope with this tragedy. Throughout Alice’s childhood, Jane struggled with alcoholism and panic attacks. “I wished my mother were normal, like other moms, smiling and caring, seemingly, only for her family” (37).
I woke up at John Morris’ house, on his coach. As I knocked a flyaway hair out of my face I noticed my face was wet, with tears, and then it all hit me at once that my Dad and Mrs. Borden were dead. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I heard John Morris ask if I was alright, but that seemed like a completely different world, I responded with a meek okay, so Mr. Morris wouldn’t see me like this. That didn’t work though, I saw his tall shadowy figure ducking under the door frame with tea. As Mr. Morris sat down and put the tea on the coffee table in front of us, I turned my head and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes in hopes he wouldn’t see.
Forty hands shot up pointing towards the bottom of the old twisty slide following the long dreadful whistle no one ever wants to hear. Two other lifeguards and I jumped up off the shaded break bench and rushed towards the scene with the heavy backboard and AED bag in hand. The routine save played like a movie through my head as I arrived. I stopped. I knew from there on out this wasn't going to be emotionally an easy save. It wasn't a child who swallowed too much water or an adult who got nervous because they forgot how to swim, it was a fellow lifeguard, a friend.
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
She fixed both of her hands so they were gripped on my window and she was trying to push it down and stick her face in it. She was mad but then said this: “Why are you trying to find this dog??” We replied to her and summed up what had happened, quickly. Her response was, “Why don’t you try to go find the owners?” We wanted to shake our heads and say to her, “What do you think we were doing?” but instead we let her talk. The last thing she said was, “Okay, girls, have a nice day and she walked away.” We were so shocked and confused at what just had happened. I sped off while I could get away. I didn’t want her to come back to the car and start something
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...
Seventeen years ago, I came bounding into a world of love and laughter. I was the first child, the first grandchild, the first niece, and the primary focus of my entire extended family. Although they were not married, my parents were young and energetic and had every good intention for their new baby girl. I grew up with opportunities for intellectual and spiritual growth, secure in the knowledge that I was loved, free from fear, and confident that my world was close to perfect. And I was the center of a world that had meaning only in terms of its effect on me-- what I could see from a height of three feet and what I could comprehend with the intellect and emotions of a child. This state of innocence persisted through my early teens, but changed dramatically in the spring of my sophomore year of high school. My beloved father was dying of AIDS.
From a young age, I knew that I wanted a career in the medical field. The thought of potentially saving a life and helping other people made healthcare very appealing to me. I was exposed to first aid techniques early on by my father, and it became a large part of my life as I went on to complete several first aid courses and eventually become a lifeguard. My current job as a lifeguard is something that I enjoy wholeheartedly. There is a huge amount of responsibility that comes with keeping patrons safe and that is not an aspect of all part-time jobs. One particular experience allowed me to realize that helping others is what I am meant to do and showed me how rewarding it really is.
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
It was an average winter day. I woke up that Thursday and drug my feet to school as I did every morning. Once I was home from school, I sat by the warm fireplace and listened to the soothing sound of the crackling fire as I completed all of my homework. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The phone rang. The next five minutes spent on the phone would change the course of my entire life. With the phone in my hand, I could see that it was my grandma calling, so I happily answered. However, when I answered, I could feel the emotion in the atmosphere change. I heard tears on the other side of the phone. When my grandma collected her emotions she explained to me that my grandpa had gone for a checkup at the doctors earlier that week. That day,
It was a cold October afternoon in 1996, and I raced down the stairs and out the front door, in an attempt to avoid my mother's questions of where I was going, with whom, and when I'd be back. I saw my friend Kolin pull up in his rusted, broken-down gray van, and the side door opened as Mark jumped out and motioned for me to come. I was just about to get in when my mother called from the front doorway. She wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her, so I hopped in pretending I hadn't heard her and told Kolin to drive off.
For two songs to compare, I chose Weightless and Bounce Back. These songs are different in many ways but they are similar in a few ways. For example, Bounce Back is a more popular song than Weightless so it is easier to find. However, Weightless is a more relaxing song.
The dark, black sky was covered with a million bright shining stars. The moon shimmered above a small town in the suburbs of London. The gentle wind swept past the bare trees and danced with the leaves below it, creating a colourful array of orange, yellow, red and brown. Across the street, a light was on in a small house where a tall, dark haired woman stood, talking to her two children Nicola and Erin. While she was tucking them in Erin asked, “Mummy, will you tell us a story please?” “I’m sorry but its time to go to sleep now,” she said. “Please mummy,” begged Nicola “Okay but only one story,” she replied “This story is about how I got lost when I was a young girl and how I met an incredible man. It all began when…”
The moment we stepped foot into the hospital, I could hear my aunt telling my mother that “he is in a better place now”. At that moment, something had already told me that my dad was deceased; it was like I could feel it or something. I felt the chills that all of a sudden came on my arms. As my mother and grandmother were both holding my hand, they took me into this small room. The walls were white, and it had a table with four tissue boxes sitting on the top. My other grandmother was there, and so were my two aunts, my uncles, and