Personal Narrative: Life Before Dying

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Each and every time my mother responded either by doing what I asked, like cuddling with me, or by answering my questions and saying, “You were deathly allergic to an antibiotic they gave you. You can’t leave just yet. Who’s Brunner? You missed the volleyball game last night and the girls are worried about you. Today’s Friday Jocey. You missed two days of school. Ryan had to go home because he had school today. He wanted to stay, but he knew you would be angry if he didn’t go to school.”
There was one time when I woke up that the doctors and my father kept telling me to cough. They were getting ready to take my breathing tube out and they needed me to cough in order to get it out. I didn’t really have much of a choice because once they started

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