Marita

Reads: 386  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this in middle school while trying to polish a short biography. It ended up being an essay for one of my classes in high school and got published in a class book. I realize that the quality in it might be a bit off, but my professors always encouraged me to write in a way I feel most comfortable.

Submitted: December 23, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 23, 2013

A A A

A A A


The first memory of my childhood occurs during a city blackout. We lived in Watts and our neighborhood was often disrupted by some maintenance failure. At times I felt that looters would do it on purpose as it often seemed to occur during the night. I was in my room looking out the window. The sky was just as dark as the neighborhood appeared and the moon and stars could barely send a glow. It was a beautiful sight, to see through nature when it isn't lit up by translucent bulbs. It almost felt too peaceful. I was contemplating opening the window to let the breeze in. I can't remember if it was summer or winter- I can't even remember how old I was. I know it was definitely before my 6th birthday because my mother walked in the room to warn me not to open the window. We were alone- all five of my siblings, my mother, and I. My Daddy my apá as I call him- was out. Don't know where, but he wasn't home. My mother warned me that often when there were blackouts, people would trespass other's homes and it was safer to keep all doors and windows closed. Why would anyone want to trespass another person's house? I wondered if this was true. Of course it is. My mother then walked to the window and explained- Chaly, there is good in all aspects of life. But just like there is good, there must be bad. We can have amazing days, but we must also know there are crappy ones. I wondered why she would tell me this. After all, I was only a kid- I could barely tie my shoes! She continued to say that we live to know both sides, the good and the bad. This was a way to equalize everything in our lives. Not all is perfect. Again- why tell me this? I realized that we were no longer talking about the good and bad actions a person chooses to do in life. In fact, I don't think she really materialized on that point at all. Mom was a weird person. She was tall, with a rather round figure, and had very long, black hair that matched her dark black eyes. It made no sense as to why she chose to talk to me about good and bad that night, but I guess I was just a child. We stood quietly in the room, both staring out the window. We saw a dark figure walking up the driveway. I recognized that walk-in it was dad, wearing his plaid jacket over his tee, and sporting jeans, cigarette in hand. I smiled and tried to walk out the door. I looked at my mother who was still staring out the window. She didn't look at me. She simply said, \"If I die, who will take care of you And your siblings?\" She looked at me and continued. Said she knew that the person who would be my next mom would be amazing with us. I knew then my mother wanted to prepare me for her tragic end. Months after the blackout, we were preparing for the funeral. My mother died in a horrible car accident- the same one my father survived. You see, I realized my mother wanted me to know here was good and bad in life. She was a good mother who thought about caring for her children even after her death. She feared I would grow up without knowing how to differ good from bad. Her death was painful, and even now I feel it was the shittiest day-to-day maybe year-round of my life. But it is true. We must know that there is good in life, but also really bad parts too. We just need to know how to balance it out.


© Copyright 2020 porcelainpenguin. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

More Non-Fiction Essays