Narrative Essay: Mother, Don T Leave?

922 Words 4 Pages
Mother, Don’t Leave

I can still remember that moment when I stared blankly into a chalkboard, as tears dripped off my face and splashed on top of my notebook. A faint buzzing could just be barely heard as I was lost in my thoughts. But the light tap from my brother knocked me back into reality.

One month earlier…

It was summer break, school just ended, and everyone was rushing into their well-planned vacations. I stayed home, enjoying the new found relaxation I didn’t have during the school year. As the days passed, I would idle in the new apartment we currently occupied, wasting my precious time away on nonsense activities. My parents, worried about me, believed it was best to send me to a camp, hoping I might learn something…and I
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From the loud city streets, we entered luscious grass filled fields, and endless farms as we got closer to our final destination. Finally, we approached a building that surprised all of us. Instead of luxurious ideology where our camp might be located, we instead had to participate and live in buildings that didn’t belong in the modern world. I sensed that most of us didn’t want to be here, but reluctantly, we entered the courtyard of this place. Small rocks littered the courtyard floor, along with large black trash bags that reek of rotten eggs. As we trudged along to the main building, we were greeted by an elderly woman that welcomed us. Just as our parents were to finish our papers and let us go, my brother suddenly broke into tears. I can see that sadness in the eyes as he refused to stay here for a week. For what seemed like hours, my brother’s tears finally started to fade away, after my parents supplied him with the perfect reward if he stayed. After a heartfelt goodbye, we waved our parents off as they drove slowly away, back to the …show more content…
Instead of the cheap food we might have expected, this camp hired cooks that cooked a feast for all the student. The first bite I had, I was already addicted. Numerous Chinese delicacy filled the table, and before we knew it, all of us were stuffed.

Soon enough, we were all in bed, ready to sleep and interested what tomorrow might bring. However, for me, I was the most illiterate person there in Chinese, and the next couple of days, I suffered, as I barely understood a fraction what the teacher rambled about. And this vulnerability left me open for deep thoughts and staring blankly in the world.

I was sitting on the left side of an old dusty classroom with 20 other younger children, who were all staring at the teacher. I could feel the intensity of the classroom as the majority of students listened intensely to the teacher. The doors around us creaked as the wind blew in to cool us off from that humid summer day. I can still smell the strong aroma of food that flooded from downstairs into the classroom as noon approached. However, I was unmoved by my environment, as I was too filled with sorrow to be bothered by it. My mind was filled with numerous things, but there was only one thing stood out from the rest of them:

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