Personal Narrative: My Trip To Ellis Island

As the sunlight gleamed through my bedroom window bright and early on Sunday, May 15, 1892, I layed in my bed thinking what it would be like if i could move anywhere i wanted too. Little did i know that today would be the day that I would go to Ellis Island and become an American citizen. All I had ever wanted was for my family to live in a society that it didn’t matter whether or not you were a Jew, or a gypsy, or even a homosexual, I wanted my family to live in a place where it didn’t matter what religion you were and it didn’t matter if you had blonde hair, nor blue eyes. My family would be riding middle class on the steamboat that took us to Ellis Island, the trip overall would take about three days plus a day to get to the steamboat. Those poor 3rd class people had to walk the entire time and didn’t get a break or anything! They were trudging through the snow in old clothes and torn slippers, their feet must have been icicles. A day later we arrived at a doc that had a vast steamboat almost hovering over all of us. We had to pack all of our luggage into a port on the boat and then we had to go find a house to stay in because we wouldn’t depart for the next two days.
Two very long exhausting days later we boarded the boat

and we left Berlin Germany, and we were on our way to America. With us being middle class we got rooms and food, but above us all were those snobby rich people that only cared about themselves, they didn’t share their food with the poor people the only thing that they shared it with was the trashcan. Late at night i would see the third class people sneak up to the first class deck and take food out of the trashcan, on their way back down they always passed my room and i would give them some of my food. I knew that the food down there was horrific because of all the talk going around the boat, i felt so bad for the little kids that were starving and there parents were dying because of lack of food. One day on the last day of the adventure I went onto the deck and i went to the front of the boat, I felt like I was invincible until i had a body thrown on me. More and more were thrown on top of me! In was unbearable tens of hundreds of pounds it felt like, I forgot that the bodies were dead. The only thing going through my head was that i was going to be thrown off of the boat with all of these people ( well what used to be people). After all I had done, I had given hungry people my food, i had felt horrible for the people that had to walk the the doc, and this was God’s way of paying me back. I was furious, the thought of me dying at the age of 15 made me want to vomit. I could smell the salty air and the breeze going through my hair, it couldn’t even comprehend the fact that i wouldn’t have a family soon. Being the only child in my family meant that my parents would no longer have a child.
Hours later I fell asleep, I was done screaming and yelling I was worn out, I was dreading the moment that they would through the bodies off of the boat. Only a couple of minutes later I heard voices, not only did I hear voices I heard hope. I went to yell but nothing came out, only a little screech that nobody not even me could hear. It got colder and darker underneath the bodies, then i realized that they put a bag over all of the bodies. That was it, I was done. I felt a lift, we were finally off the ground, trying to kick, punch, yell, and anything that could get me noticed, but I couldn’t move, I was pinned underneath all of those people. It felt like I was flying, then BAM, we hit the water so hard and we started sinking. I knew that the weight of all of the bodies would weigh down the bag and we would sink to the bottom of the ocean in no time.
Then the bag ripped in half, all of the weight weighing down the bag must have made the bag rip right down the middle. I knew that even though i didn’t know how to swim that now was the time to time, this was a life or death moment. I pushed off of the ocean floor as hard as i could, shooting up like a rocket taking off. The surface of the water got closer and closer but then it started feeling farther and farther away. I was light headed and I was out of breath, i knew that i needed to push with everything I had left in me. I finally reached the surface of the water, i had inhaled so much water i couldn’t even breathe. Looking up i saw a vast green lady hovering over me, it must have been the Statue of Liberty, the amazing Statue of Liberty that everyone looked for when they got to Ellis Island. It was a miracle that I made it, I had been sucken with dead bodies to the ocean floor and yet i was treading water right in front of the Statue of Liberty. Words couldn't describe what I was feeling, it was a , mix between me being a nervous wreck and me being too happy to even be able to swim. While I was trying to swim to the Statue of Liberty to get up on it so i could be on land, I saw a big grey looking figure underneath me. It was a great white shark, and it was circling around me! Looking down at my leg I saw a wound the size of a softball, how couldn’t I have noticed that? It was gushing out blood! I swam as fast as i could and finally. i reached the statue, but just then the shark came up and bit me in the leg! Words could not explain how it felt, it was so painful it wasn’t. I jumped onto the bottom of the Statue of Liberty and I carried myself all the way to the hospital.
Almost a week later I got out of the hospital with an amputated leg, they said that i was in great health though and that if i wanted to get to America i would probably pass because I hadn’t gotten a virus.

I had passed everything and I was on my way to America, but throughout that day i found out that both of my parents did not pass the health inspection and they were headed back to Germany daughterless. On my way to get on the boat a sweet lady in her early 30’s had said that if I didn’t have parents anymore then she would adopt me and I could be hers. She went on and on about how her daughter had died earlier that week and all she wanted was another daughter. After an hour or two of talking I decided that I wanted her to be my new

mum.
We got to America an hour later and we started our life together. We lived in a mansion with her new husband and his son. After 4 years of being in America I didn’t even think about my real parents, but I still wondered if they had maybe had another kid or they adopted. I finally decided to write a letter to my old address, in hopes of them maybe still living there, but after 2 weeks they still didn’t write back and my hopes faded. During those two weeks I got an infection in my amputated leg and the doctor said that he didn’t think i would make it because my immune system was weak. I actually had had that virus since the day i got bit by the shark. A week later i was almost dead, the fact that I had made it to America after i had been sunk by dead bodies been attacked by a great white shark and i have had a virus for four years was remarkable. I should have died four years ago, i could have died four years ago, but i knew that i was going to die young and honestly that was okay with me because I have had so many horrific things happen to me within these four years dying didn't even phase me. All i wanted to know if my parents were okay……. I guess I never will know……………...