“Did you steal the gold from your father young boy?” I hear coming from the woman I despise or in other words my step mother, I want to ignore her but father is looking at us from upstairs, things will get problematic if I do. “ No, I did not” I said in an elegant voice, she looked at me as I was blatantly lying to her, she clicked her tongue as she walked back upstairs, I see the two maids whispering to each other while looking at me, I thought to myself good thing he got enough money to hire maids back as I thought that I started walking downstairs to the basement, it's about time I paid her a visit. I try to visit her at least once a day since she's most of the time locked down there looking at the floor, I opened the door into the dark basement, I try to look for the light lamp that is around the cage, as I turned it on I hear the chain shackles move around “it's ok…
My Diary: 11/2 Today he walked in with a deep blue bruise on his face. This wasn’t the first time I pretended it wasn’t there. 11/9 He started using his left hand for everything today. He is right-handed, but I didn’t mention it. 11/16 Today he walked in with a limp. The bruise from two weeks ago is gone, but a fresh one has replaced it. I was going to tell someone, but I never got around to it. 11/19 His limp had been getting better. However, today it was worse. I am going to talk to someone tomorrow… 11/20 He looked okay today.... I’ll find someone on Monday; it was a long week. 11/23 He didn’t come to school today. I talked to the someone. She needed to talk to him personally, but, as I mentioned, he wasn’t there. 11/24 He was absent again.…
I woke up in terror, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, all I could do was sit there with shear fear. How is it that after all this time I still have these terrible dreams filled with uncontrollable guilt? Fifty years ago, Fifty years ago and even after all this time I can't seem to ease my pain. Hearing Mary call from downstairs I got up and headed to the kitchen. Mary is my live in maid. “Good Morning, Montresor. How did you sleep?” She looked actually concerned; I should just tell her it might help to tell someone. No, that is a terrible idea. “Good morning, Mary. I slept well thank you for asking. I'm headed to the study let me know when breakfast is ready.” I walked slowly into the study, I know I shouldn’t go in there, every time I…
Soon I drifted off to sleep. I never like the whole... demigod nighttime adventure thing. We can't control ourselves, and we can sometime see some pretty disturbing things. But I had no choice, and I had to do it.…
My mother would always weep to hear the voice of a young man ,who has taken care of himself and his little sister. My father was more than proud of the person who I was becoming, and in that moment I realized these certain changes that were occurring through my life. Numerous of flashbacks of when I had to walk from school holding my young sister's tiny hand, or when I had to bring errands such as vegetables or tortillas for dinner, all the responsibilities I was given everyday to complete, it was to help me become the person I am today. I have seen young people nowadays, and it’s hard to watch them mistreat their parents and not give them the proper love and respect they really…
At the age of 3, when I was in the nursery, my mother had to leave me and my sister with our father alone to seek for an opportunity in Hong Kong. Our mother worked as a nanny in Hong Kong, having not much benefit for her such as only having one day off and most of the time, none at all and not even able to take a chance to go home and visit us. It was tough for me and my sister living without our mothers’ guidance, especially for my father who happens to have an affair with many women. When our mother found out that my father is having an affair with different women, she didn’t hesitate to take us away from him. Long story short, our mother filed a divorce against our father. Aunt Aileen, my mothers’ oldest sister had to take care of us after the divorce.…
After waking up this time, I once again thought I was in the mine. I was wrong. I woke up in a small bed covered in blankets with my two younger siblings staring at me.…
We all strive for attention and affection, whether it is from family, friends, or a random individual. But earning the attention of the ones we wish to love shouldn’t be hard, especially if it’s a family. “Patching Holes” is a story by Andi Long, which describes her relationship and daily life with her cold hearted father who is somewhat like most dads or father figures I’ve come to know. As a child growing up, I never really had a father figure. For me my father figure is my grandpa, which is weird seeing as he is so much like the father in the story “Patching Holes”, just cold hearted, hardworking and violent. But, he shows small flashes of compassion here and there. I have longed for his attention since I was a child for the simple feeling of having a dad. A father figure is what most people want but a lot of people don’t have.…
Imagine coming home from school one day and you find out that your mother just passed away from cancer. When you’re young you really don’t think about how your future will turn out. At the age of 12 one does not have the ability to comprehend the ramifications it has on your educational future. Grief takes away any emotion except the loss of my mother, my best friend, and the one who held the answers to all my life and educational needs. As I reflect back to that tender age having someone call father to appear like my knight and shining armor comforted my adolescent needs this gave away to grief, heartache, disappointed and dismay to realize my knight only saw me as a financial vehicle for his future leaving me to trust I will be able to fulfill…
Later that day my father called me down, thinking it was dinner I quickly ran down the stairs. The sight I saw after reaching the bottom of the stairs automatically turned my emotions into a swirling tornado ready to blow everything around it into tiny pieces of debris. My parents were sitting in the living room ready to give me a lecture. I knew immediately by the look on their faces that it was going to be about that test. After living with them so long I could tell when it was going to happen, being lectured had become a part of my life that had changed me. I took a seat and sat quietly allowing my parents to digest my existence in front of them. After five minutes of pure silence my father began talking about his childhood, reminiscing on his straight A’s and how he was the best student in his class, my mother as usual confirming this information being spat at me at 100 mph. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours, after a while the only contemplation running through my mind was which arm to use to lay my head on. Suddenly I could feel my father’s lecture coming to an end and I began to get excited. I had learned over the years that the main points of my father’s lectures where at the beginning and the end so that’s when I would pay attention. After listening to my father ramble on I caught a story he had never used with me before. It was a story about an eagle that was born around lots of chicken and grew up believing he was a chicken although he was clearly an eagle. One early morning that eagle…
After I visited the beautiful roses in my garden, a heavy rain poured out. “There is a storm”, I thought to myself. Strong winds blew hard, and rain drops trembled the night. As I go to my bed, I saw a merchant heading off to my house. “He looked so cold and weary”, I told. Out of pity, I decided to open the front door so he could stay for a while. I also served splendid dinner lay on the table to fill his stomach such a delight. As he enter the main hall, I rushed to the back of a door, silently listened to his cry. “Hello… Anybody there?” he spoke. That moment, I thought to gradually show myself but then again, I refused. “Hello…” he yelled again. He now saw the dinner that I prepared. “Eat them all, my guest”, I whispered to myself. After his dinner, I slowly moved to my bedroom. “I will now prepare his bed. I know he is very tired and sleepy”, I said happily. The merchant went upstairs and entered the bedroom. “I can have my very good sleep,” he said. My heart was filled with joy after hearing that. After a moment, the merchant fell asleep. “It was heart-warming to help others”, I told to myself before I closed my eyes to sleep.…
Father, you have provided food and shelter for me all my life and I believe you did what you thought best in the raising up of Harry, Ernest and I. I do not hold a grudge towards you for the selfishness brought about by age and sorrow. It burdens me much like a rope tied to my neck. Episodes of increasing violence I have witnessed are becoming stones weighting down your once kind spirit and I fear if I stay here it would do neither of us any good in the end. Working at the Stores brings me no pleasure either; it fairly tramples on my romantic nature to be in the presence of the…
“Wake up!” I heard my mother whisper in my ear, “Today is the day.” My eyelids slowly opened only to see a white, lifeless ceiling staring me in the face. “Seriously, Get up!” my mother said in a hateful tone, “I don’t want to go through with this anymore than you do.” I slowly, but surely, dragged myself out of bed, forced myself to put on a decent looking outfit, and grabbed my bag while following my mother to our…
Most of my dreams were connected to the day before or upcoming days, I was able to interpret them using an few websites. Interpreting my dreams has led me to learn more about myself, especially emotions that I don't even show. Throughout this assignment, I had trouble remembering my dreams, after having a bizarre dream, I started to remember more dreams.…
When I was still eleven, I wake up and eat my breakfast prepared by my mother after that I play and sleep and play again. I complain because my clothes aren’t new I always demand for a new clothes to wear. When I’m sick, mom will give everything that can make me feel better, she will rush me to the clinic with her worried face. I felt bad, really bad I don’t have the right to complain because I am living the life that those kids are dreaming of. Anthony, a thirteen year old boy who has to find his own food for him and his siblings. No one will bother to give him money or food so he decided to just steal money/ jewerleys from the rich people. I felt really bad for him because his parents are always quarelling. His father who keeps on beating him up and his mother who is concerned for him but cannot do anything so she just drink all her problems. Diosel, aged eleven has to sing a song on the highways just for coins to surpass his hunger. I am very worried for him and his friends because they might be hit by a rushing car or worse trucks. Bunso, the neglected child that begs for the love of his family. Of all the three children, I feel worst for Bunso because his mother looks like she doesn’t even love him. His mother always promise to set him free from the jail but she never really cared to get him. At the young age he has to suffer all the hard things just to survive he should be studying for his future but he is at the jail living with the criminals unsure if he will be able to eat tomorrow. I can feel the pain, need, and anger of Bunso with his mother. He is in…