Personal Narrative: A Traditional American Family

Twist I have always contemplated the idea of a traditional American family. Thinking about a white picket fence life with a dog, two parents, and a big house with a red door has been a way to pass the time in my less than ideal life. Why do I imagine a family outside of my own? My family is pathetic. While I dream of my family being similar to the Brady Bunch, the tragic reality is, we are nothing like a sitcom family. My only family is my drunk, druggy, prostitute mother, who is not exactly the ideal person to bring to an elementary school career day. My mother, whom I call by her first name, Katherine, and myself live in a small, shoe box sized one-bedroom, one-bath apartment. I sleep in the bedroom on a mattress that rests on the floor; …show more content…
I stared at myself for a moment, although I don 't know why I did so, and then flicked the light switch off as I left the bathroom. On my way to inspect the living room, I began faintly hearing the sound of voices; a male and a female voice. I crept to the end of the hall until I was inches away from the entrance to the living room; I listened as quietly as I could, slowing my breathing to minimize any noise that would prevent me from hearing. I identified the female voice as Katherine 's, but the male voice was unfamiliar. I could only hear bits and pieces of their conversation. "I really..., but I am out of options... I would do anything..." I could hear the male making small comments. "I see...right...mhm...I understand..." I was so intent upon listening that I forgot one of my basic human needs: oxygen. I began feeling light headed and before I could react I was on the ground in the living room entrance. Katherine looked angry while the man just stared at me; his eyes were cold and would probably turn me to stone if I looked into them for too …show more content…
"You did good sweetheart. Let 's go down stairs, a few more people want to talk to you." I stood up and walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. Out in the parking lot, I saw Katherine and Michael on stretchers with the white sheets over their heads. I walked over to where they were. I approached one of the medics examining them. "Can I have a moment with my beautiful mom, please?" After giving me a sympathetic look, the medic nodded his head and walked past me, patting me on the shoulder when he passed. I looked behind me to make sure no one was in ear shot of what I was about to say. I walked over to Katherine and pulled her sheet from her head. I began whispering in her ear, as if she could hear me. "You should have been smarter than that Katherine. Did you really think you could kill me? Well obviously you can 't. In fact, the tables have turned and I killed you." I laughed to myself and at this dramatic twist of irony. "Just know, that I hid the duffel and all of its contents where no one will ever find them. I won this battle, just like I always knew I would." I backed away and covered her head with the sheet. "See you in Hell, Katherine." I started up my fake tears and my fake sobs and went back to the rest of the people. The medic from upstairs walked over to me and began comforting