As the sun sets behind a misty hill top, cricket’s chirp, barn owls hoot, and darkness seems inevitable. These simple things did not always give a feeling of serenity, but of fear, hate, and the question why. Growing up in the bustling city of Parkersburg there was always something to do. Whether it was sneaking four blocks up to the local corner store for a jumbo pixie stick or speeding down an alley way on our bicycles. Life was good, friends at every corner and never a boring moment then it happened. At around nine years of age two significant events occurred. First the announcement by my parents that I would be a big brother soon, not something I was thrilled about. The second event one way worse and more terrifying than a sibling, it was, a move. Yes my parents for one reason or another decided moving to a secluded sub-division fourteen miles away from town would be best for us. I was in absolute awe, how could this be happening? …show more content…
Returning them to friends that surely would not be forgotten. One Tonka truck to the delinquents next door, then some action figures to my second best friend down the street, and finally a few beat up hot wheels to the most loyal of childhood friends. By this time reality was sinking in and the thought of sue a girl living right across the street seeing me cry was too much and I ran home without ever saying goodbye. The next morning we were packed ready to go but not to our new house but to my uncles. We were to stay the summer at his place in Williamstown until our new home was ready. Being so young details on why were not given. So life in this smaller, quiet, peaceful town was good. A pool in the back yard and safe streets to ride my bike even a few friends were made that
All my life I have lived in the small town of Walkertown, which is only about twenty minutes away from Winston-Salem. Five years ago Walkertown was small and you had to go to the next town over, Kernersville, if you wanted to go shopping for clothes or go out for dinner. Now, Walkertown is a lot more developed and less rural. However, it is nowhere near as developed as Winston-Salem, especially downtown. Winston-Salem is a built up city with a lot of impervious surfaces.
We finally got to Winston-Salem after 2 hours of a long drive. When we pulled up to our new home it was bigger then the last one, I was happy that I moved to Winston, but the only thing was that I didn 't want to go to my new school because I knew no one there and it was going to be very awkward, but when I went the next day it wasn 't that bad, I made new friends so, I wasn 't so lonely. My mom went to work while I was at school. She said that she was glad that she took this job and she doesn 't regret it at all and I was really happy for her.
It was a hot day in June when my husband pulled into our driveway with a huge U-Haul truck. A few friends came to help load our meager belongings into the
Growing up in the small town of Port Arthur, Texas was very tough. The city’s crime rates are higher than the percentage that chooses to attend a college or university. With all of the crime, poverty, and near death experiences, the city has made me into a stronger and more motivated person wanting to help the poor. My parents came from the city of Saigon, Vietnam in the year of 1998. With no English and only $100, they arrived on a small shrimp boat in Port Arthur, Texas.
I liked how I was going to get a new house, but not the fact I was leaving all my friends behind. The day we moved in some of the neighbors came over and helped us unpack. They were kind and we made new friends. Then we unpacked and we got all settled in. My sister was not overjoyed
Since the young age of 7, my parents have been separated. We were a family of 4 now in a new town. Tarkington a small town in the middle of nowhere was where we decided to settle down and start over on our new life in the middle of the school year I must add. But growing up in predicament made me mature a bit faster than expected and has shaped me into the person I have become today. Tarkington was one of the best things that could have happened I grew as a person and got more involved than I ever had before.
We had rented a cabin I couldn’t wait to get to the cabin and see my family. The cabin was really big ,a lot bigger than I imagined, my little cousin and I ran in as fast as we could we each only grabbed one of our bags. We got an upstairs room and it bunk beds and a big bathroom , I chose the bottom bed so she could have the top plus I had the best view of the TV first thing we did we unpack all of our stuff
I want to be one of the first to welcome you to Eastpointe, Michigan. This is a pretty typical town. A very neutral balance between Black and White people. A slowly rising crime rate and mediocre schools. This town is typical for me, but probably is very different from what you’re accustomed in Africa.
When I was two years old we moved to Keller, Texas from Pennsylvania. The only thing I remember about moving day is that it was Halloween. My dad recalls that I was being potty trained and had to use the bathroom at every house we stopped at when trick-or-treating. Many memories occurred in this house like every Sunday night when my sister and I would put on a talent show for my parents. Another example was when we would go swimming in the pool that we built when I was 7.
Under such a silver-lined sky I hurry, small under it, head bent in deep concern for this park’s walk, hellish and pulled ahead by my hell-bent beagle Sergeant. With my wind-filled black collar blown back, with a brown-and-white Sergeant ear wind-turned inside out, the pup pulls me on by empty park bench after empty park bench, empty benches without an old man to catch his hat from blowing off, empty benches without an old woman to rest her inflamed feet, empty benches into which lovers’ names remain engraved. We rush past the melancholic burnt oranges and rusts and deep purples of the fall trees along this walk only to overhear our vanquished futures spoken by the river’s dark water trickling over black rocks. And so we travel from the depths
I am from rolling green hills, always flowing free with buck and doe, From the wooden floors and carpets laced with dog hair To the echo of roaring bush hogs and tractors throughout the air I am from the black mud courtesy of passing ducks I am from the little black dog who chased a more youthful self Across the kitchen, around the island, trip, fall I’m from artistry and creative souls, aged finer than wine I’m from paint, clay, and most of all, color, that has skipped me entirely From the countless books read, to the times in Youngstown I’m from warm heads in warmer laps Baked goods, Rhode Island Red hens
My life in Jefferson, Mississippi, was a bit tragic, dramatic, and painful. It changed all my world after my father’s death. My life was not easy. I did what it took for me to be a happy woman. I had a good house, but who would think my life was a disaster?
Occasionally, my dad would sleep in a different room in the house. One day shortly after the end of my fourth grade year, when what was to be a summer to remember, my mom broke the news to me and my brother. It had ended. Mom and dad were getting divorced. I remember feeling shocked and confused.
I grew up in Wellston, Ohio and lived in the countryside about fifteen minutes from town. My house was a home to me and it wasn 't the greatest, but it was special to me. My big backyard consisted of many fruit trees and a grape vine, it was where I had bonfires with my family and friends, and it was where I ran free with my brother. I had a pond, “over the hill” as my brother and I would say, where we swam and fished in the summertime and sat on the deck feeding bread to the bluegill as we had conversations about life. Behind our pond was where thousands of trees stood tall and where we roamed every inch of the hidden land.
I yelled “how could this day get any worse” that was my first mistake. When we went all went to visit my old house it was so bad it looked like a bear climbed into it and destroyed it and they left it in rubble I am not kidding what so ever the tree had a crack in it everything was everywhere and everyone especially me and Bando were in shock. It was the one place I truly learned to love where some of my best moments were created. I got so emotional it wasn’t even funny I cried so much I had mixed feelings I was mad and sad.