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Personal Narrative: My Accident At Home

993 Words4 Pages

I was around six when I last saw my parents. Mother always wore same bright dresses with braids that swayed back and forth under the the cool, winter breezes. She had the prettiest smile, the smoothest voice, and gave the warmest hugs. Father was a giant because he always towered above everyone else's. Although he occasionally came home late, he always made sure to be in time to tuck me in. Mother loved Father, and Father loved Mother. Everything, everything was perfect. I attended a local kindergarten near our house, and had multiple friends, caring teachers, and -most importantly- loving parents. Everything was perfect until the accident. The accident I swore to never, ever discuss with anyone. The accident that stole my parents away. The accident that changed everything.

The police claimed that my parents were in a scrimmage with a thief that broke in. I was tucked in my bed oblivious of what was happening. The next morning I did not wake up to the sweet scent of Mother’s cooking, or to the loud voice of my Father’s. I woke up to the swarm of policemen rushing to and fro examining the scratch marks indented in the plaster walls. These beast-liked marks stretched from one end to another. The scratches revealed the plywood sandwiched between the plaster and foam boards. It was obvious that these …show more content…

They bombarded me with questions about my biological parents and the accident that happened. The neighborhood kids were mean and constantly bullied me on my way to school. The elementary school I attended was miles away. Because my foster parents didn’t own a car, I had to walk to school and back every day. On weekends, my foster parents always gave me a list of chores to do. I washed the dishes, mopped the floors, and cleaned my room, while my foster parents took a nap in the living room. One time my foster mother ran to me with shards of broken ceramics in her hands and yelled, “WHY DID YOU BREAK THIS? IT WAS MY FAVORITE

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