Personal Narrative: My Definition Of Medicine

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I remember one time when I was younger; I would get sick and need to take my dose of medicine, literally. Medicine time to me was something that made me cry from the thought of it, even till this. Like when I four years old and sick with a horrible fever. I would hide underneath my blankets (I know that’s a good idea and nobody would find me). While I was hiding, I was suddenly hit with the cold air and a surge of light beamed against me, before I knew it my mom dragged me out of my warm, comfortable bed and I was heading towards my kitchen. It was time. Not just any time, it was medicine time.

My mom sat me down and came towards me with the small cup of grape medicine, which is obviously delicious…not. This is it. I’m going to die. Goodbye, Dora the Explorer. I love you. The tears were starting to bundle up and suddenly tears were falling down my face. At this point, I was sobbing over the idea of drinking that disgusting gooey, purple syrup. Tears were falling down my face, my mom was telling me to“Stop and drink it.” But that was not happening on my watch, nope.

Tears were streaming down my face and my mom was coming towards me with a small cup of dark purple medicine in her hands if I remember correctly it was Tylenol. The worst kind. I mean come on; it’s so bitter and tastes like a
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Imagine all the endless possibilities. A giant teddy bear or a small one? A regular one or do I want a turquoise one? Or do I want a stuffed animal that wasn’t a bear? A stuffed animal that was a yorkie puppy or a panda instead? I could picture myself at the toy store already and the shelves filled with stuff animals. The moment I walk into the toy store is the moment of pure joy. The endless possibilities, and I mean endless. I moved my long, dark-almost black hair out of my face and slowly moved towards the small cup filled with the death trap medicine. I’m doing this for the teddy bear, nothing else but the

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