Personal Narrative: Birch

As I was laying on the cushioned couch on a Saturday afternoon, my phone began buzzing in my dark black Nike basketball shorts. As I read the caller ID I noticed that it was my mom. As soon as I picked up the phone I knew something was wrong. My mom's voice was scratchy, and depressed. As I picked up the phone she immediately told me the horrifying news. For a few seconds I had to comprehend what I was hearing. After I analyzed what she had said I screeched my lungs out, bawling hysterically, as if I had heard that the world was ending. For a moment I couldn't breathe, hearing that our healthy Chihuahua had passed away. After that tragic day, about a few months later, even though I was still awestruck by that wretched day the question finally

After several weeks of my Grandmother passing, I came to realize she wasn’t coming back. The feeling of shock had left and now I felt intense amount of emotional suffering. The continuous feeling of pain and unanswered questions lingered about in my mind. I began to wonder how it could have happened and what people could have done differently. At this time, my whole family was grieving over the loss as well.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

In November of 2014 my aunt tragically took her own life. That day I got a tearful phone call from my dad; I could feel his heart breaking as the words came out of his mouth. I held back tears as I drove to his office to be with him, knowing that in this moment I had to be strong for my dad. Together, heavy-hearted, we went and broke the news to my grandparents. During a time of year when most people prepare to gather together with loved ones to celebrate the holidays, my family and I were unexpectedly thrown into a period of mourning. My grandmother asked again and again why Joanie did what she did. I was at a loss for words. I had no answers. I still don’t.

We got in my dad’s truck and headed to our house. I still remember this like the day was yesterday my dad turned to me and my brother and said “I hope you boys never have to experience anything like this ever again In your life’s.” We got back to our house and it was perfectly fine. A tree fell across the road which would become our tree house for weeks to come. There was no power what so ever so at night there was no air or lights. My dad pulled a mattress into the living room and me, mom, and my brother laid on it and my dad would sit up all night basically fanning us with a huge piece of card

It was a normal weekend when my brother ,Seth, and I were riding our dirt bikes in the trails just by our neighborhood. My buddy Jacob found us on the trails and decided to ride with us so we let him lead. We started to follow him and we ended up in a trail that only he goes down into. He went so far ahead that we lost him and couldn’t hear his bike anymore. Seth said that he was turning around so I turned around with him and we started heading home. I remember not paying attention to anything but my brother. He started fading, just then when I thought he left without me, he turns on his lights. I checked my watch and it was 12:00 o’clock noon but it was pitch black. I turn on my lights and

When I got my family was around our wooden table. My dad on his soft voice said “ I don’t think your grandpa will go through one more night, you need to call him” he cried. I felt like I couldn’t do it, felt so week and a huge hole in my stomach, something I’ve never felt before, I grabbed the phone and when I was about to call, the phone ringed, I passed the phone to my dad, It was my aunt sobbing and barely able to speak, then she said “ he passed away, I’m sorry honey” I couldn’t believe it I didn’t even had the chance to say

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

    It was six A.M. on a beautiful yet brisk Saturday morning and I was fast asleep. Suddenly I was ripped from my blissful dream world by the incessant blaring of my alarm. Groggy, I shut off the alarm and stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast. I had a light breakfast consisting of warm cinnamon toast and butter so as to not upset my stomach during the looming Cross Country race.

I had lost a gran but my dad had lost a mother. Seeing him so vurnable and in pain made me wail all over again but this time it felt like the tears where endless. I tried to be strong for him but I couldn't, I realised how weak I really was. Everyday I plastered on a fake smile hoping to trick myself into beleieving I had gotten over her death, but no matter how hard I tried my silent cries and tears at night were always

I may have not realised it but March 5, 2002 was the hardest day, even if I have no recollection of it. When you're 2 years old you don't recall much but snippets , like being given 2 small goldfish. Which is my only real memory of my father. Now for a while my aunt moved in after that day, I thought that was normal. Until I about was 5. I noticed many children getting picked up from daycare by their fathers. When I finally asked my mother where my father was she gave me a somber look and remained silent. Which was the response I’d constantly get she always had a difficult time communicating about him with me. It was hard- really hard. Especially when I learned the truth, about three years later.

We could hear the rain getting heavier and heavier and the whole house seemed to shake. I tried not to let it show to keep Everett calm, but inside I was terrified. I was trying to push the horrible thoughts out, like what if I died or someone I knew died, but I couldn’t. The thoughts kept worming their way back into my head and the more I thought about it then the more scared I became. Then the floor became damp.

After Finals, I came back to San Pedro for the summer. You wouldn't think the place would have changed that much in a year, but it sure as hell felt like I was living in another country. Most of the guys I went to high school had moved on by then and the whole town seemed so fucking strange.

As I got my brother, I know something was up because we never had family meetings. Also, my mom looked dreadful. This was also the first time I had ever felt scared. When we all were at the table our mom said, “ Kids, you know Maggie was old right?” We both nodded, so she could continue, now I know something was really inadequate, “ When I got to the vet today our veterinarian said that even if she gave Maggie the shot that she would just get worse but very slowly. So, I did what I had to do for Maggie. Kids, I had to put her down. She died in my arms.” I was initially crying because I loved Maggie. Mom said she had Maggie's ashes. But I could barely here because I was crying so hard. We also still have the ashes on the mantel. At the time a prayed a lot for god to bring her back to our family. I predicted at the time I was still in shock. I remember her, and I still miss her sometimes. But I know that she did not suffer that much. I also know that she is a better

My childhood was fun and unforgettable, as I had lots of neighbors to play with from morning till dark. We played games outdoors and rode our bicycles happily. The undeveloped wood behind our home provided endless opportunities for adventure. There were many other games to occupy our time as well. I was six years old when I first knew fear. It seems like yesterday that I could still recall my surroundings when it happened. As I was laying on my back in the family room, tossing a rubber ball up to the roof and trying to eavesdrop on my sisters’ conversation about their boyfriends. Shortly, the home phone rang and it was my mother. I assumed she was calling to let us know the latest news about my little brother’s heart condition. She informed us that our little brother has passed away a few minutes ago. I started crying in disbelief and screaming