Personal Narrative Essay: Kristy's Home

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The edges of the bare counter almost punctured my clammy hands, sending a sharp pain up my arms; my legs trembled as I tried to keep myself upright as I stood among the rest of my family. Their faces remained sullen as they stood in a jagged line along the walls of the congested ICU room. Grandma sat next to Kristy, hands clenched around her daughter’s limp hand and her rosary, trying to find any guidance from God. Her eyes never left Kristy’s face, but Kristy’s son did not dare look upon her face, for it was too overbearing. Cody knelt on the floor with his head in his hands, he wept in the arms of our grandfather who held him in comfort even though his face remained somber. Kristy’s pale skin and emotionless face was something no one ever

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