A Narrative Essay About Moving Out Of This House
Hannah Burke
Mrs. D’Agostino
English 101
2/2/15
Narrative/Descriptive Writing Essay
“I can’t wait for the day I can move out of this house, I’m sick of it,” I exclaimed, teenage angst rising with every passing moment of silence. “And I’m sick of being treated like a little girl, like I can’t be anything without your help, I don’t need you.” Those last words burnt my throat on the way out. I could tell I hurt her, and I didn’t want to leave things like that, but I didn’t have a choice. It was 6 p.m. and I left her standing there to bask in the words no mother wants to ever hear her daughter say.
I couldn’t sleep. I was in one of the safest places in my town and I couldn’t sleep. It’s 4 a.m. now and my eyes are switching back and forth between Channel 9 Eyewitness News and the brand new CPAP machine Leo showed me earlier today, just trying to distract myself from earlier events. I am waiting for the radio transmitter to announce “232”, so I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts. If you're not a big believer in signs, then trust me when I say we have that in common. If you can’t stand when people deem unremarkable, mundane, …show more content…
Nick and Leo head into the house while I grab the bag of medications and ECG. The patient is lying in her bed, and the family has no idea how long she has been unresponsive. I see the Nick’s face turn cold. I’ve worked with him long enough to know when he looks like that; things don’t turn out the way we want them to. Dutifully, Leo and I place the electrodes on her cold body. We have to use alcohol swabs so the electrode will stick because her skin has become waxy. Flat line. “Time of death, 5:02.” Nick takes the family outside while the EMT calls a code black to MedComm. And just like that, I watched a family collapse. She asks me to put the supplies back in the
Mrs. D’Agostino
English 101
2/2/15
Narrative/Descriptive Writing Essay
“I can’t wait for the day I can move out of this house, I’m sick of it,” I exclaimed, teenage angst rising with every passing moment of silence. “And I’m sick of being treated like a little girl, like I can’t be anything without your help, I don’t need you.” Those last words burnt my throat on the way out. I could tell I hurt her, and I didn’t want to leave things like that, but I didn’t have a choice. It was 6 p.m. and I left her standing there to bask in the words no mother wants to ever hear her daughter say.
I couldn’t sleep. I was in one of the safest places in my town and I couldn’t sleep. It’s 4 a.m. now and my eyes are switching back and forth between Channel 9 Eyewitness News and the brand new CPAP machine Leo showed me earlier today, just trying to distract myself from earlier events. I am waiting for the radio transmitter to announce “232”, so I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts. If you're not a big believer in signs, then trust me when I say we have that in common. If you can’t stand when people deem unremarkable, mundane, …show more content…
Nick and Leo head into the house while I grab the bag of medications and ECG. The patient is lying in her bed, and the family has no idea how long she has been unresponsive. I see the Nick’s face turn cold. I’ve worked with him long enough to know when he looks like that; things don’t turn out the way we want them to. Dutifully, Leo and I place the electrodes on her cold body. We have to use alcohol swabs so the electrode will stick because her skin has become waxy. Flat line. “Time of death, 5:02.” Nick takes the family outside while the EMT calls a code black to MedComm. And just like that, I watched a family collapse. She asks me to put the supplies back in the