Personal Narrative

The birds are singing outside, light beaming in through my blue curtains. I slowly open my eyes, blinking and trying to adjust to the harsh sunlight peeking through. I sit up on my bed with my rainbow-striped comforter wrapped around me. I can hear the creak of the shower knob turning in my brother’s bathroom and the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen. Everything is normal, except it isn’t. There’s no loud music blasting in my oldest brother’s bathroom. My mom is not furiously knocking on my other brother’s door, trying to wake him up. My dad is not at work, instead, he’s putting on his black suit and tie. Today is not an ordinary day. It’s the day of my grandpa’s funeral. I clearly remember the day my grandpa got hospitalized due to a heart attack. My mom frantically yelling at me and all I could only hear the word “hospital”. Knowing the severity of this situation, I quickly got out of bed with my thoughts running a thousand miles per hour and my heart pounding against my chest, unsure and scared of what is happening. …show more content…
My eyes fixated on the cars speeding by, one by one they drove passed us, each a different color. My brother beside me to the right with his earbuds in, most likely, trying to fill his mind with meaningless words, with his hands in the pocket of his oversized forest green hoodie and his cropped black hair barely brushed and pointing in different directions. I returned my attention back to the highway, closing my eyes, and focusing on the whooshing sounds coming from the cars. Before I know it, the car stopped moving and we’re in front of a large rectangular building covered in blue windows that reflected the sky with cream pillars leading up to a sign that spelled out “hospital” in small black