Thursday, July 18, 2019
Personal Narrative: Fate :: essays research papers
I gazed out the window, amazed at how the sun rose from the horizon and illuminated the dimly lit car. It was the beginning of August but my teeth chattered violently as I sat against the cold seat. My grandfather was wise to insist that I change from my bathing suit before we left from our annual trip in Atlantic City, New Jersey, however, my sister and I choose to spend our last minutes merrily wadding in the ocean. A feeble yawn escaped my lips as I felt the cold penetrate through the flimsy blanket and make my clothes cling to my skin. I was going home. I had anticipated the trip all summer long and now that it was over, I wanted one more swim, one more ride, and one more delightful taste of fluffy cotton candy. It was time to go back to the reality of an unhealthy grandma and the fear of death. My grandma was an alcoholic and I had grown used to the numerous trips to the hospital and the promises of change with the apologies of regret. Day after day, she would sit in the old flower-patterned wooden chair drinking the forty-ounce beer, which she weakly tried to obfuscate in the wrinkled brown paper bag. At the innocent age of eleven, I knew about the evil brown elixir that she tried to conceal and the smell of it made my nostrils flare and stomach churn in repulsion. The silence in the car became deafening as the reality of what awaited me at home became translucent. The doctors would do as they always did, give her advice, the number to a rehabilitation center and she would come home with a cry of redemption. After a week of abstinence and several incidents of violence, she would sooth her emotions with a drink. In order to regain composure she needed divine intervention and the support of her family. Unlike most of the members of my family, I still believed that she was capable of recovery but I was also slowly losing faith in her. Before we left for New Jersey, she had learned that her liver was failing and she had no more chances to rectify her life. She had to stop. Through my tired eyes, I observed a feathery white cloud float across the sky and obscure the radiant sun. We were almost home and I could not get the haunting thoughts out of my head.
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