Best Personal Essay Ever - Bettering Myself

Bettering Myself

My friend Abby untucked herself from under the covers, pulling the blanket off of herself. She slowly climbed out of her bed and was now up on her feet. She took no more than seven steps before reaching the door. She placed her hand on the doorknob, turned it, and walked out of her room. She left the door open, knowing she was going to return to her room eventually. She walked at a normal-pace as she was approaching the other room down the hall. Abby was young, maybe nine or ten years old. She got to the front of the door, in front of the room. She placed her hand on the doorknob, quickly opening the door, pushing it open, and what she saw next, she was nowhere near prepared for.

She didn’t trust anyone with this story, anyone but me, and here I am sharing it. She remembers this vaguely, just enough to understand somewhat of what was going on. It was believed to be a weekend because both of her parents were home, and she barely saw them home together unless it was the weekend. Her mom didn’t work on weekends, only weekdays, and her dad always came home early enough for her to see him before she went to sleep for school, or just to sleep in general. Abby didn’t realize it then, but she realizes it now. Her parents had been fighting more frequently. She guessed it was because she gotten used to them screaming at one another and constantly fighting, Abby constantly ignored it, but she knew how it made her feel, and she knew that she didn’t like the feeling, causing her to ignore it.

Growing up, Abby wasn’t the best version of herself that she could be. She was mean to the students at school and at her program for after-school. She never really cared about how she treated them or what she said to them, as long as she felt she had power. She also didn’t pay much attention to her parents and was usually in trouble with them. It was hard to believe for someone her age, but it was true.

Yelling, screaming, inappropriate words, things being thrown, it started like that. Abby didn’t know why it was happening, but she knew it was happening. Abby was in the other room with her baby sister, her room, the place where she felt most safe, and the only place for her to go. Her parents weren’t in the room with her but in another. She remembers being on her bed, and her baby sister in her baby bed next to her, crying. Abby didn’t know what was going on. Her parents then came into the room. They were still yelling, maybe about the baby, maybe about money, She was not sure, but she knew they were fighting.

Seconds later, their yelling got louder, and Abby started crying. She was scared. She didn’t know what was going on, why they were fighting, or what they were fighting about. She was scared not knowing what was going to happen, she didn’t want there to be a next. The fighting of her parents hurt her, but not physically. Abby tried to yell at them, wanting them to stop, but it didn’t work. Abby’s grandpa then walks into the room and tries to make them stop fighting, but they still didn't. It kept going for a while, but they eventually came to a stop.

Time passed and Abby was now tucked in her bed. The lights were off, but she was still awake. She couldn’t sleep. Abby lay there, awake. There she was in bed, her dad in the other, but not her mother, not her. She didn’t know where her mom was.

Suddenly, noises began. They got louder and didn’t stop. She didn’t know where the noises were coming from, neither did her dad, and certainly not her baby sister, but she knew they were coming from her mom. Her dad then said out loud “go see what your freaking mom is doing.”

Abby untucked herself from under the covers, pulling the blanket off of herself. She slowly climbed out of her bed and was now up on her feet. She took no more than seven steps before reaching the door. She placed her hand on the doorknob, turned it, and walked out of her room. She left the door open, knowing she was going to return to her room eventually. She walked at a normal-pace as she was approaching the other room down the hall. Abby was young, maybe nine or ten years old. She got to the front of the door, in front of the room. She placed her hand on the doorknob, quickly opening the door, pushing it open, and what she saw next, she was nowhere near prepared for.

In front of her was her mom, struggling to get out of the window while crying. She froze, then ran towards the window, yelling and begging for her mom to stop immediately. She pulled her mom away from the window and they then sat down on the floor together, crying. Her mom said, “I can’t do this anymore, I don’t want to do this anymore.” Abby didn’t know what to say or think, but she was hurt and she couldn’t believe what was happening. She didn’t want to lose her mom.

Her grandfather then walks in and does his best to calm them both down. It took a while to get her and her mom settled, but it happened. Abby then walks back into her room, worried. She couldn’t sleep knowing if her mom was now okay or not. She snuck out of her room and checked up on her mom, only to see that she was peacefully sleeping.

Ever since that day, Abby grew up with the mindset of having to watch everything she said, as well as her actions. The thought of losing someone she deeply cared about scared her. She never had to think about stuff like that. She didn’t want the reason for others to feel hurt, was because of her. She didn’t wish that on anyone, even though sometimes it seemed like others did deserve to feel hurt, but she knew that wasn’t right. Abby changed her ways and grew up a caring person. She knew what not to say and what not to do. Although Abby herself has gone through difficult times, not once has she done anything to make it “even.” She constantly did the right thing and let things go, coping in her own ways, and trying her best to move on with life.

After hearing about this story, I realized the person I was. I was a person I didn’t like, and a person I wouldn’t like if I was someone else and I met myself. I didn’t want to lose the people I loved the most due to the way I acted. I didn’t want the things I said and the actions I took to push people away and make them feel terrible, and I never wanted anyone to hurt themselves, especially not because of me. She allowed me to realize the person I was, and that if I continued acting the way I did, I could hurt someone badly.  I began thinking about how I could better myself for myself and for others. I started changing my ways and being more positive. Not everything had to be a competition and not everyone was seen below me. I let people in and I made sure those around me would not feel the negative energy they did before, from me. I only wanted to act the best possible version of myself I could, and to spread positivity. I no longer felt a need for others in the world to feel the hurt I did or do. I was a much better person than that. I constantly grew up thinking I had to look out for everyone and anybody I possibly cared about, which was everyone I met and knew. I looked out for everyone, even those who have done me wrong. I didn’t believe in revenge or anything cruel, just forgiveness and moving on.  I cared more for people and less for myself. I changed for the better, as a daughter, a friend, and as a student.