Personal Narrative Essay: The Beginning Of My Family

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It was the beginning of my weekend; the sun was shining, birds were singing, and my family were all in the house. I sat on the leather couch with my sister while I watched my mother and three men that basically grew up with her interact with each other. Their names were Fred, Keith, and Joe. Keith is my second cousin, but the other two were more like family friends. My mother knew them her entire life so I just call them my cousins too. They were all smiling and reminiscence on old times in the living room. The television was blasting in the background, but no one seemed to pay any mind to it.
Later my sister and I were told to leave the living room so they could talk to one another unfiltered. They were all in their forties except for my
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I dropped my beautiful Bratz doll on the dirty street and laughed the hardest laugh I had ever experienced. My stomach felt like it was in the process of disappearing as I landed on my knees and I laughed. I began to wonder if I was going to die because I could not breathe. Tears were streaming down my face and I was having the best bliss of my life. I turned my face up the hill and saw Keith and Joe guffawing. Their huge smiles only made me laugh harder. It was so funny. I turned to look at Fred again to see if he was going to give me the smug look he usually gives me after he makes me laugh, but he is not. He is struggling to get the bike off of him. As soon as my other cousins noticed Fred’s struggle, Keith and Joe started running down the hill. Joe ran up the next one towards Fred, but Keith stopped in order to tell me to alert my …show more content…
Then, she drove back into our driveway and everyone helped Fred out of the vehicle. He is placed between Keith and Joe with his arms around their shoulders limping. He says, “I can’t…I can’t feel my legs.” As bad as that is, I started another set of giggles all over again. The look on his face was contorted in so much pain, but I kept seeing him flying down the hill in my memory. Once I gain back my composure I follow everyone in the house as Joe try to convince Fred to go to the hospital because he was scratched up very badly. It was blood and dirt covering both of his legs and his very dark skin turned red and purple. Fred kept refusing, so my mother patched him up with her first aid kit.
Overwhelmed with all of the drama of that day, I never went to my friend house, my doll was left outside and rained on once night came, and my mother’s brand new bike was ruined. A day that started off so beautifully ended with tragedy for all of us. As I go to sleep that night, I wonder how someone who could be enjoying life as much as Fred did rolling down that hill are on their way to destruction, pain, and disappointment. I question if Fred regretted his decision after only feeling the weight of his failure, or recollect upon the thrill of the

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