Funmilayo Adesida Emerge program The Most Frightening Experience of My Life It all started one hot summer morning at sunrise, July 5th 2012 around 3 am the day after the 4th of July holiday. I was awakened by the crying and screaming of my family over me yelling at me “Get UP FUNMI PLEASE”! And as I jumped up startled and shaking wondering what’s going on walking into my, mother’s room seeing a rainfall of tears fall down her face, she then tells me with the most hurtful voice ever “YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN SHOT AND KILLED”! I completely went into shock as, I could feel my heart drop I started to panic badly wishing, and praying, and hoping saying to myself I wish that someone would pinch me, and wake me up from this terrible dream. The news I had gotten at that moment felt so unreal never would a day go pass in, which I would have thought about going through a loss of one of my siblings this soon. Hours later around 11 pm that …show more content…
It took my family more than a week to plan the funeral , because they were still in shock that, he was actually dead ,and many of us didn’t have that much money at the time but luckily my dad helped out with most. Walking into the doors of the church was really hard for me, as I walked slowly I could see his blue casket facing towards me, with a bunch of flowers on top. Looking over at him lying there in a casket was unbelievable, I just couldn’t help it to let out my flow of tears, and touch his cold body letting him know that I will always love him, and that hopefully we will meet again. He wore a sky blue button up shirt with black pants and a cross chain, that had Jesus on it I placed over his neck. Omar looked very nice and like himself laying there. There were a lot of people that attended the funeral everyone said special prayers for him shared funny memories, and pictures they had with him, and viewed the body
I’m living this nightmare, but am also telling myself it’s not true because I feel better. Today my family’s plan is to go see Tanner in the funeral home. I don’t want to go and I beg to stay home. My mom and dad force me to go and see him. When I go up to his coffin and see him, I start to scream and run out of the room. I was terrified because I was afraid he was going to get up and grab me. This seems silly, but I’m in complete shock and seeing him like this makes me scared. He was just with me a couple days ago and here he is now lying in front of me. After I calm down I go and look at him once more. I look at his hair and his face. Thinking to myself, “I’m going to miss you Tanner. I’m going to miss your laugh, your personality, your smile, etc.” I touch his face and it puts me back into the cold reality that this is really happening. My brother really died and he’s really right in front of me in a
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
Kneeling on my apartment floor, I held the phone up against my ear and frantically cried for help. She laid in a puddle of blood with one of her wrists slit open. I screamed her name and begged her to stay awake. The paramedics barged through the door and lifted her on the gurney, while I remained on the floor in a complete state of shock. My roommate had just tried to end her life. Police officers bombarded me with questions, but I struggled to answer them because all I could do was continuously replay the event in my head. After I finally managed to explain my side of the story to the authorities, one of the officers accompanied me to the hospital where I sat by my roommate’s side awaiting her parents’ arrival.
The other night I had a dream. I dreamed of a boy whom I had known a long time ago, but since then he had disappeared completely from my life. In my dream, I saw him sitting beside my bed and talking to me. He told me about the trip that he had taken with his parents, his two older brothers, and his sister when he was seven years old. He told me how his parents had been victimized by a man who knew about his parents’ desperate attempt to flee from Vietnam, so he took advantage of them.
It smelled sterile, of chemicals, of death. I had requested beforehand, that the children be allowed to see their father privately. No need for gawking and unnecessary displays of emotion directed at little humans, who could not truly grasp what was happening. I tried not to look at anyone as we passed by the small groups of people scattered here and there…..staring, I knew they were staring. I heard my ex-mother-n-law call out to my 9 year old daughter. I pulled her closer and we walked into the viewing room. My children began to cry. Again, I do not recall what was said. I remember that they put their notes into the casket. I remember looking at my ex-husband and thinking that this was a dream, that he didn’t look how I expected him to look. I don’t know what I thought he would look like. We stood there, for what seemed an eternity. It was probably no more than ten minutes. We exited, and immediately the children were whisked away by relatives who wanted to comfort with good intentions. It seemed that the children were drawing on the emotions they displayed. The funeral began an hour after we had arrived. My husband and I sat in the back of the room, while my children sat in the front with their grown siblings, grandmother, uncle and cousins. I surveyed the small room. Very few flower arrangements were present. I began to notice faces. No one I knew except for his family. The few people that I
... funeral home and prepared to walk her out to her grave. The morticians loaded my aunt into the hearse. Everyone was walking behind the hearse until we reached her plot. My uncles and Dad pulled her out of the vehicle onto the bands for the funeral directors to lower her into the ground. Then the priest for what felt like an hour of words and gave the signal to lower her into the ground. While they were doing that, the priest passed out roses. We all threw the roses onto the burial vault and said our goodbyes and went home. When we got home we reflected on the times we had.
I can’t begin to express how hard it is for me to stand here before you and give my last respects to my loving mother - name here. From the biography that was handed out you can recall that during the her early years in the united states she studied and worked in New York where she met and married my dad, the love of her life. They spent the rest of their days loyal and in love with one another. Unfortunately, one day my father passed away with cancer at a young age. My dad was the one who suffered the most, but my mom suffered right along with him. She felt powerless, and for my mom- powerlessness turned in to guilt and grief, a painful distress she lived with on a daily basis for the next six years. When he died part of her died! Life for her was never the same again. I was not able to completely understand her loss- until now…
Putting into words how that event affected me is probably the most distressing thing I have ever had to do. But the only way to describe it would be a splintering collapse of my conscience. I lost faith in justice or any idea of fairness. Because just one day had ripped apart a family, killed a woman who had so much more to give and taken away my mentor.
In March of 1998, my father was rushed to the hospital because of a heart attack. I remember getting home from basketball practice without my mother home. Instead, my sister was there with her children. The fact that my sister was there was familiar to me, but something did not seem right. My sister stayed with me and did not tell me what happened. Later that night, after my sister left, the news that followed would prepare me to encounter the most defining moment of my life.
Less than twelve hours later, the mailman walked up to a house with my aunt dead on the front porch and my uncle inside on the living room floor dead. The screams caught the attention of the neighbors and the police were then called. This is a significant experience in my life that I faced and that had an impact on me during my freshman year and still affects me today. It was a homicide/suicide accident and it deeply impacted my family and me. Not only did it affect my school life, but my home life as well.
February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to the hospital as quickly as possible as if it may be the last time to see her older brother. My mom finally calls me back and when I tell her the news, she quickly leaves work. That after-noon I lost my Uncle.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing these long finger shaped shadows that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the forest. At least I had hoped that I was.
It was a Sunday morning. We got the call from the convalescent home. I went up with my mother and brother. As I walked in, I remember seeing him in the bed. He just looked so peaceful; it was the best thing that could have happened. Even so, death is terrible no matter what the condition of the person. No one is prepared to accept death no matter what, where or how it happens.
...ry service were beautiful. Everyone that spoke had something nice to say and somehow I found enough strength in my self to get up and read prayer that his parents had asked me to read.