Personal Narrative Essay: The Kind Of Life

1412 Words 6 Pages
The life we live is like an open sea. At times, it hurls violent waves on us, completely throwing us off our tracks. Usually, the only way to recover from the blows that constantly blind us as we journey along is to fight with our strongest will possible. I have lived the kind of life I consider extraordinary. My father use to assault my mother and when I was a young girl. On almost a daily basis, he would send me to my room, lock me in there and abuse my mother. She was never the type to fight back; I would hear her scream as she begged him to stop. He would blame her for his misfortunes, referring to my mother and I as “bad luck.” Then, early one morning, three days after I celebrated my twelfth birthday, my mother woke me up, fighting back …show more content…
All I remember was raising up my hand and asking Mrs. Thompson for an opportunity to give my side of the story. What happened next still lingers on my mind. Whenever I look back, I can’t help but smile. I left my seat, walked to the front and spoke in a way I had never done before. For the first time in my life, I spoke like a supercharged robot. I told them of my father, my time growing up, my personality, the hatred I felt inside etcetera. All this while, Mrs. Thompson was watching me, with her eyes seeming to say, “Go on girl. You are marvelous. Say all you have in mind.” And I went on and on. I told them I was a coward. I had never wanted anybody to know my misfortunes. I found myself thanking her for realizing my need to get out of that cocoon of silence. I said I felt good. I felt free. I felt complete. When I finished, for some strange reason, everyone clapped and cheered. I could not believe it. Mrs. Thompson came to me and hugged me so tight I felt my lungs bulge. “I have been waiting for you to speak for ages,” she whispered. I told her I never knew I could do it. That it was purely her motivation that got me to that …show more content…
I kept myself busy getting to know the people around me. Mrs. Thompson taught me how to introduce myself to strangers and how to talk to my friends. It was like practice to me. When I asked my mother how her day had been after arriving home from school one evening, she looked at me in amazement. “Have you smoked something?” she wondered. Mrs. Thompson would call me to her office and talk to me like we were age mates. I would laugh at her jokes and ask her to tell me more. The she would ask me to do the same with classmates. She made me realize that confidence made the difference between something and nothing. She taught me to be prepared to be hurt by people. She would say, “Sometimes when people laugh at you, they are saying you can do better.” In my free time, I would go to her office and talk to her for hours. Her communication skills intrigued me. I wanted to speak to people exactly as she did. I also realized I enjoyed being with members of the guiding and counseling group. Most of them were among the first friends I made. When my mother realized I was more talkative, she began getting closer to me. We would go out on Sundays after church just to “bond”, as she referred to it. She would tell me about her life experiences in her teenage years. “I grew up in a good family. Your father’s departure left me depressed but I am glad you are helping me overcome all that,” she confessed to me. I

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