My life in Writting..read if you want (UPDATED)

These are some of the essays ive been required to write for english

I KNOW MY WRITTING SUCKS..NO ONE HAS TO READ THIS..BUT SOME THINGS ARE INTERESTING..5 and 6 ARE MY BEST AND WERE THE MOST EMOTIONAL FOR ME TO WRITE

Chapter 2

Preschool years

by: Screw_it
Preschool was an extremely challenging time in my life. I was starting fresh in a new place. I was away from everyone that I knew and trusted. Many horrible events happened while I was attending preschool. I had to learn to stand strong on my own and become somewhat independent.

In 1999 my parents were making just enough income that I was not eligible for the state run preschool, “B4s”. Because of this, I was unable to attend where my brother had just two years before me. My parents needed to find a different place. Through several long talks with my grandparents, they decided on Barry County Christian School. They figured if I had to go anywhere, they’d like for me to be in the same building as my, then sixteen year-old, uncle.

Barry County Christian was a very boring and intimidating place. The school was very large and my teacher, Mrs. Ashcraft, was very strict. We did busy work most days in a dull gray classroom. We were given limited time to play and have fun. I hated school for the first month. I felt alone and scared. I was the youngest in my class and I had trouble spelling my name. The other kids were rather mean and stuck up.

That little room eventually led me to my first best friend. Her name was Rose and she had amazing red hair. She was the closest in age to me and was very kind. She helped me do many things in class. She was a much smarter four year-old than I but didn’t flaunt it. We became close very quickly and were practically joined at the hip. This new friendship helped me become more confident and even enjoy school.

In October of 1999 our house burned. I was being watched by my grandma when we got the news. I was very confused at the time and didn’t know what to do. We were out of our house for eight months. For the longest time I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t have any of my things and couldn’t go home. We lived in two different places over that time period. My maternal grandparent’s former home and an apartment around the corner. I loved my grandparent’s house because it was very big but warm and cozy. We even spent Christmas in that house. We couldn’t afford presents that year because we’d lost everything. People from my older brothers school pitched in to buy presents for my siblings and I. We soon moved to the apartment which made me sad for a while. I soon discovered that one of the kids from my preschool lived in the house next door. His name was Bo and we got along well. I looked forward to playing with him every day after school. When we eventually moved back home, I felt alone again.

In the early spring of 2000, my Papa suffered a massive stroke and passed away. This struck me hard because we were very close. I had gone to my Granny and Papa’s house twice a week for as long as I could remember. He would play games with me, read to me, and push me in his tree swing. I loved my Papa. I cried when I heard the news. I didn’t understand what was happening because this was the first death I had ever experienced. I couldn’t and wouldn’t believe that he was gone. I struggled with it for weeks and dreaded his approaching funeral. It scared me very much. When the funeral eventually did arrive I was angry. I didn’t want to go. My mother made me. I was given the opportunity to say something before the crowd of people who’d gathered but I was too frightened. I refused to go anywhere near the casket because I thought it might swallow me up too, like it had Papa. For weeks after the funeral I continually asked my mother if I could go see my Papa and was angry when she told me no. My great grandparents house became a very different place. My Granny, who had been leagally blind well before I was born, became very bitter and spiteful. She used to be a joy to have around but was now very mean. My Papa’s death drastically changed my relationship with my great grandmother. She didn’t like being with me anymore nor I with her. I was sad and alone once again. My mother noticed and found a great solution to the problem. She found a tape and gave It too me. This tape was of a song my Papa had written and sung himself. It may not have been the most well written song or the best sung, but it is forever my favorite. I’ve kept that tape with me the many times we’ve moved and the many years ive endured. I treasure it greatly.

When I was in preschool I felt very scared and alone. Several people were able to draw me out such as; Rose, Papa, and Bo. I suffered three great losses that year. My freedom to do what I wanted, my home, and my closest friend in the world. 1999-2000 was the saddest time of my life.

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