Personal Narrative-My Most Traumatic Memory Of My Brother

993 Words 4 Pages
Everyone has had bad days, right? But have you ever had a day go so wrong that it shakes you to the core? Nothing is right and you want to stop time? The day I witnessed my brothers near death, was the most traumatic memory from my childhood. From a young age, I learned just how ugly the world truly was, and this memory molded me into the person I am today.

On March 16th 2001, I became a big sister to a beautiful set of twins. My brother and sister, fraternal twins, stole my heart the minute I first saw them. I remember walking into the nursery and being hit with the smell of Johnsons baby shampoo, hearing the soft coos of the newborns filling the room, and feeling their soft, tiny hands grab onto my outreached finger. These two little miracles
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The atmosphere was dark and intimidating, I could only think about my fragile little brother and I was afraid to ask what was truly on my mind. Before I could muster up the courage to ask, my grandma took my hand and led me to the side of a hospital crib. I burst into tears the moment I saw him, my baby brother was there, breathing, sleeping peacefully, and alive. I was only five years old but I learned how precious life really was that day.

The next morning, I sat in my brothers hospital room with my grandma, from the door I could see my mother looking in with a face filled with tears and melancholy. The nurse had turned my mother and father away from seeing my brother, the doctor had suspected child abuse and had opened up an investigation. Everything changed that day, my brother had survived his trauma but now I had to survive the trauma that was to
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I was distraught without my mother and hated to leave her when our visitations were over. What child deserves to suffer through this? I was mad at the world for not realizing that I had already been through enough and didn’t deserve to continue living like this.

Due to the circumstances in my childhood nightmare, I grew up strong and determined. I was bullied constantly because my mother was a felon and that my grandparents were raising me. The words of my bullies stung, but they taught me a lesson. I wanted to show them that no matter what my parents case was, I was still an honorable person and I would make something of myself. I was determined to be a person my mother and grandparents could be proud of, I wanted to protect and be a role model for my younger siblings.I may not have had much of a childhood, but I grew up fast, learned how to take care of myself and others, and now here I am.

Nothing can stand in my way because I have been through lessons in life that have made me

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