Personal Experience: The Most Important Experience In My Life

I grew up on an old family farm, in a really old run down farm house. It was April 14, 2015 when my family fell into silence at the dinning room table. My father, John had always been mean. He wasn 't the kind, loving family figure you saw on television. Instead he was blunt, rude and rather controlling. It was that night at the dining room table when my father had gone to far and split our family into two parts, him and us. Without my father 's bitter personality, I would have never learned the most valuable lesson in my life. It was beautiful a day. The sun was out, with bright beams of light, frowning upon the morning dew. I was running late again for one of my speech meets and I could not find my new phone. I just received it only two …show more content…
It had been an exciting day since I have placed fourth in one of my speech meets. On the bus ride home, the bus could not go any slower. I was so excited to tell my mom about the meet and how I had placed. I felt as if I was on top of the world and no one could bring me down. Little did I know I was wrong. As soon I got home, I was recruited to help make dinner. My dad insisted I helped cook mashed potatoes and chicken for dinner. It was one of his favorite games he would make my siblings and I do unnecessary tasks that we hated to do. I hated cooking. He would stand next to all of my siblings and I and throw little jabs of sarcasm at us. That night well I helped make dinner, he was rather in a grouchy mood and he was on a roll with his sarcastic …show more content…
It was that one slip of the tongue that started a war. My dad joined in on the sticky subject and with one uneasy question turned a beautiful day into a nightmare. "Since when did Kate have a phone?" my father asked furiously. My stomach stunk and I quickly responded. "I just got it a couple weeks ago," I replied. He replied with a sharp, "Oh, I think dinner is done." We set the old wooden dining room table with paper plates, cups and my grandmother 's silver spoons. The silence of the room was loud and no one could disregard it. The antique varnished chairs scratch against the hard tiled flooring and made a sound that made my ears bleed. My father arrived late to the dinner table with the steaming hot mashed potatoes and chicken. He sat down without saying a word. My mom, Tony and I look all looked as white as a ghost. Mothers voice shrunk as she asked for the mashed potatoes. All at once, like a flash of lightning a fist came pounding down onto the table. "Were you even going to tell me she got a phone!" Father asked. I didn 't even let my mother try to respond. I scrambled for words. My palms were sweaty and my voice was shaky. "I only got it a few weeks ago," I