My Story | Teen Ink

My Story

May 7, 2008
By Anonymous

Once upon a time... no, this story shouldn't start like that. On January 16,2002, my life changed forever. I remember that day like the back of my hand. I had woke up and got ready for school like any normal day. The front door was open and the sun flowed through the screen door window and poured onto the floor. I was going to go wait for the bus with my brotherout in front of the house, but first I ran into the kitchen where my mom was and gave her a hug and kissed her on her cheek.

I didn't normally do that, but today felt different. I still don't know why I felt that way, even a little over six years later. My brother yelled, "Bus!!!" and I ran out just as it pulled up. I ran up the steps onto the crowded bus and found a seat with some random person. The bus lurched on and picked up the other kids.

My stop was first because I was in second grade at the time. The day seemed to go by like normal, nothing felt any different, I thought. But when I got home, that all changed. My grandma and aunt were there. I ran inside and asked where my mama was. I was told she was really sick and had to get taken to the hospital. "But she's gonna be okay, right? She's gonna come home?" "I don't know." my grandma said, quietly.

We went to the hospital where some, not all, of my family were already there, even my dad. They must've let him off of the boat. I ran to him and asked, "Mama's gonna be okay, right?" He didn't have to say he didn't know, I could tell he didn't. In my head, I told myself she was gonna make it. She had to. She was my mama and I needed her. She couldn't leave me.

We waited for HOURS. The time passed and I couldn't sleep. I was too anxious. I had just finished drinking a soda and went back to the waiting room where there were some of my family crying. I wondered why. Mama was gonna make it... right?

The next thing I remember, I was taken to a tiny room where my dad was and he was crying. NO, no, no, I said to myself, this isn't happening. He started. "Sharelle," he sniffed and said, "your mama's gone and she's not coming back." This is all wrong, I said to myself. "She has to come home, she's my mama!!!" I screamed.

It's still hard to write about this now, six years after. I'm still coping with her loss. It's not like, Oh, I'm sad, and SNAP! I'm over it. Psh, no way. Talk about a slap of reality. Now it's May 7, 2008 and everyday, I'm getting better. She's in a better place now, and even though she's not here, she's still my hero... and that's how my story ends.

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