Personal Narrative Essay: Why Are They Not Going?

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I am staring at the ambulance waiting for it to pull away. Feeling the fear rise up in my throat like bile the taste sticks in my mouth. I walk closer to the house and hear the dogs barking like crazy. Oddly enough that was not even on my mind when all of this happened. I hear the neighbor come back over to our yard and she has my good friend with her and I shakily stagger to meet her in the yard. Bailey looks me. “Oh sweetheart come here.” she says sweetly with her arms outstretched and i stagger into her embrace. I hug her tighter than i probably should and tell explain to her “ it is my fault.” She answers back “no it was not.” “yes it was,” I cry, “I turned on the oven.” struggling with the memory I push it down for now. I tell her i need …show more content…
I quietly let myself sob as I glance at the couch where she used to sit all the time. I rush past to get my purse and head back outside. My mother stands on the porch and asks rhetorically “Why are they not going?”. I look towards the ambulance and see it just sitting there stalled and wonder why they have not moved, as well my mind wonders to what they are possibly doing in there. All of a sudden the engine revs up and my grandpa gets in the ambulance, and it races off down the street I grew up on. The neighbour Elana and her step daughter Bailey i have known for years are standing outside as well. Elana offers to drive us up to the hospital. Numbly I go to Elena 's car and sit in the back seat with Bailey. It all feels like a bad dream that I hope I will wake up from but the memory is all to read to be a …show more content…
“Hey Liz we are here.” It is a blur after that. waiting rooms and the deep embedded smell of antiseptic the hospital carries with it. Tears flow frequently between everyone, and out of town family and friends come to see her. Times spent in the waiting rooms were frequently spent reminiscing or silence. I venture into The room sometimes and can hardly bear the tears of my mother and her swollen face. I do not have anything to say. I just cannot remove the screams from my head of the day my life was shattered. I sit back and think of all the things that I will miss. The fact that she was always home to talk about whatever or just sit there silently while we watched tv. I am in this predicament because my step father decided that he did not want to stay in the USA anymore and my mother and I were sent to live with my great grandmother, my grandmother, and my grandfather. My great grandmother Hazel passed away shortly after we got back but my mother continued to live with my grandmother because she really was not the healthiest. Smoked sixty of her seventy years of life and it caught up with her in the form of troubled breathing. She eventually got on oxygen and could not do most things by herself but strived for independence anyway, An utterly strong and stubborn woman i can thank for those attributes in my own personality. My grandmother was not always the best person to be around by all means. She was bitter and hateful

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