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My Role Model

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My Role Model
My Role Model As I entered my grandmother’s house one evening, usually greeted by a joyous “hello” from my grandmother, that evening I was greeted only by a creepy silence. As I cautiously proceeded to walk deeper into the abnormally quiet house, searching every room eagerly for my grandmother my innocent curiosity suddenly stopped by a horrifying scream from my grandmother, as she fail to her knees gasping for some air, clawing anxiously at her chest, fighting to survive a severe heart attack. Even though that moment happened ten years ago I still remember the terror of that day. None the less it was a moment that would forever change my life. As I slowly walked into the living room, a painful sight met my eyes. Lying face down on a couch, my grandma lied red-faced and shaken. Suddenly, she was gulping for air to breath. First, she grabbed a trash can, forcing it into her face while vomiting with such violence that I was enveloped in a cold dark fear, feeling far from cruel for any child to look at. Still at seven years old, I had faced the terror of a heart attack in my own house, and experienced, for the first time, the reality that I could lose the person that was so close to me. After a while she looked at me from the corner of her eye as she slowly raised her head from the trash can, speaking delicately saying, “Hi,” only to vomit again while missing the trash can. My uncle looked at me in my watery eyes, putting his hand over my back, and said, “Let your grandma rest; she has been fighting very hard.” My grandma, the love of my life, was now fighting to survive, everyday of her life. After the doctors said that she only had few weeks to live, I began to worry. The thought of growing up without a grandmother and having the only person to live with, began to press down on my shoulders and the loneliness began to take over me. I always felt separated from all my friends. In elementary and middle school I was quiet, shy and lonely. I was felling so depressed

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