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Autobiographical narrative |
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The 11th year.
My whole life changed when I was about 11 years old, my parents broke the news to me and my younger sister that we were moving. I was crushed, absolutely crushed. It's not like we were moving just a few blocks away, were we could walk over to our old house. Not just to another city like place where houses were bunched to closely together, but to the country. All my friends would be left behind what was I to do? Nothing, there was nothing I could do except to realize we were really moving and I just had to move on, literally. Now, I loved the country, the horses, the stars, the way it smelt. That wasn't my home though; my home was that small mobile home in a place with many others. Our houses shoved way to close together, being able to wave at my friends from my bedroom window. No animals, just cars buzzing busily buy, kids running allover on scooters, bikes and skateboards, the smell of fog and gasoline thick in the air, businesses lined up on every sidewalk. I didn't want to leave this place I had become very fond of it. I knew everyone, I knew where to go if I needed something to keep me busy, or if I needed to get somewhere fast, I knew all the shortcuts. Of course in this new place it was going to be hard not knowing anyone or were anything was. Not knowing those shortcuts. I was afraid to leave the place where I was welcome. The car ride there was torture, leaving my beloved place behind. Feeling so out of place, the stuffy air in the car pushing against my chest made me want to cry even more. When we finally arrived at our new home I was shocked it wasn't a mansion or a big shiny pretty country house. It was an old lakeside house, with junk allover. The kids in the neighborhood gave me looks I didn't think humans could give me. Animals ran allover the place, squirrels, dogs, cats, coyotes and the likes. The air smelled repulsive like grass and weeds, which were everywhere you looked. There was loud music playing from somewhere farther away and cars driving by to slowly, birds and bug screaming there songs. I was not used to this place I was supposed to call home now. When we walked through our yellow walled house, it smelled like rotten wood, the lights were dim and it was like the house was trying to be closed up so no one would ever see it again. There were bees and fruit allover the backyard. It smelled even worse out there with the animal pee and wasted food everywhere. Then something occurred to me when I saw the beautiful trees and the swing that lie on the top of my hill. It was the one thing that stood out amongst everything else. It was the one thing that screamed to me with beauty. It was just sitting there swinging gently in the wind. Everything at that moment seemed to turn around. This place was full of wonderful new things. I sat on the swing thinking about this new place I was to call home. That this place wasn't that bad after all, that we could work to make the house our own, putting our own things in it, repainting, cleaning, throwing junk away, and many other things that made the house look like it was meant to be on this block. Working for this changed the way I viewed things. It showed me that even if the view you get seems to be ugly and useless, look deeper you can find something beautiful in that picture. Work hard and you can achieve many things. This changed my very work ethic, the way I did everything. It helped me to make friends, to keep positive, and to find something deeper than what appears. Now when I look back on that moment it reminds me of how things can change in the blink of an eye, how everything has a significant play in the setting around you. Stop and smell the roses, because even among the thorns there is something beautiful.
 sikis1312 · Thu Sep 11, 2008 @ 09:34pm · 0 Comments |
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