Descriptive Essay
Descriptive Essay
A Horrid Memory
My sweaty palms ran through-out the thin strands of my hair as I tried to comfort myself for just a single moment. I felt scared, almost terrified as the screams of my nightmare echoed in my ears and made my head throb. Almost never did I have such vivid dreams, and when I did, I never remembered them the next day. Nevertheless, I don't think that I'll ever be able to make amends with my darkest memories and reliving situations that scarred my childhood and eventually my life, can never be forgotten. All I can do is go back and ask what this version of myself could have done to avoid or even confront the situations and events.
Around me, there were four chairs, each one with a primary colors: blue, red, green and yellow, around the circular, light wooden table, and of course, I was in one of them. In front of me, was my mother, who had a slim and petite figure, dark brown hair, as well as matching brown eyes and tanned skin; she was feeding the birthday girl, who was a 1 year toddler. Next to me was my six year old sister, and she had pale skin with orange colored freckles, almond shaped eyes and chestnut hair. On the right side of the table, was my stepfather, who was visibly, a few drinks from drunk, and you could notice it by the scent coming out of his mouth and his blood shot eyes. He was also pale, freckles everywhere and bold eyes that made little statement thanks to his glasses.
I was about thirteen years old, and I can still recall the smell of a hot and cheesy plate of macaroni, and each bite that I took of it was better than the one before. But I was so focused in my delicious food, that I hadn't realized the silence that crept over the entire table. Feeling like there was an absence of a healthy family conversation, I tried to create a conversation “So.. What did you guys do today?” I said, feeling my eyes were full of excitement and content, food always had that effect on me. Four pairs of eyes were
A Horrid Memory
My sweaty palms ran through-out the thin strands of my hair as I tried to comfort myself for just a single moment. I felt scared, almost terrified as the screams of my nightmare echoed in my ears and made my head throb. Almost never did I have such vivid dreams, and when I did, I never remembered them the next day. Nevertheless, I don't think that I'll ever be able to make amends with my darkest memories and reliving situations that scarred my childhood and eventually my life, can never be forgotten. All I can do is go back and ask what this version of myself could have done to avoid or even confront the situations and events.
Around me, there were four chairs, each one with a primary colors: blue, red, green and yellow, around the circular, light wooden table, and of course, I was in one of them. In front of me, was my mother, who had a slim and petite figure, dark brown hair, as well as matching brown eyes and tanned skin; she was feeding the birthday girl, who was a 1 year toddler. Next to me was my six year old sister, and she had pale skin with orange colored freckles, almond shaped eyes and chestnut hair. On the right side of the table, was my stepfather, who was visibly, a few drinks from drunk, and you could notice it by the scent coming out of his mouth and his blood shot eyes. He was also pale, freckles everywhere and bold eyes that made little statement thanks to his glasses.
I was about thirteen years old, and I can still recall the smell of a hot and cheesy plate of macaroni, and each bite that I took of it was better than the one before. But I was so focused in my delicious food, that I hadn't realized the silence that crept over the entire table. Feeling like there was an absence of a healthy family conversation, I tried to create a conversation “So.. What did you guys do today?” I said, feeling my eyes were full of excitement and content, food always had that effect on me. Four pairs of eyes were