Descriptive Essay: THE WAY I FALL

I think that the best way to define who you are is by how you fall. Not that way that you get up. There are so many sad things in this world that make you want to just `give up. Make you question what the point of life is. I know that for me the day I fell was when you grandmother died. The only thing that I got out of that was that I was human. The thoughts of that day hit me it is all happening right now.

My head is fogged with words and rain. Everything is blurry. The door is swaying or it that me? I land on my bed trying to think or maybe trying not to think of what happened less then an hour ago. My night brown eyes are hot and wet. I am feel the transparent tears welling up in my eyes as then others are running done to the pillow that my head is above. The pillow below me is socked with sadness and anger. The words keep replaying in my mind “Grandma Christen, she is...” She can’t really be gone. Passed away. Don’t act like not saying died makes it better. Everything still hurts.

Everything in the room is drowned out the purple paint on the walls is less bright. The pink, brown, and black pillowcase is fading as if the tears are making the colors run. It is raining and the window to my right is coved in a layer of its on tears. The rain that is hitting the window is getting louder as if it is trying to get me to look over. Tap, tap, tap. “WHAT!” WHAT!” I wanted to scream but yelling at something that was not really would be crazy. A sorrow driven craziness.  . A SARWO DRIVEN CRAZYNESS.I finally look over sick to my stomach to think what is over there that is mover important than the pain I am feeling.

 And there it is the fairy. The fairy that I had gotten in the Poconos when I was seven; It was so pretty in the store and I had to have it. Her eyes are brown like mine and they were just as sad. Glazed down looking away for the sun to focused on what is going on in her mind that the time. On her face here is a smile but its weak. The kind of smile you give when you have lost someone and you know they are not in pain but the feeling of closeness is gone and replaced with sadness. Her lips are like fire burning trying to hold everything back. It is as if she knows everything that I am feeling.

I suddenly don’t feel as alone. Everything has less pain than it just did. But the pain that is left in me wants to throw it on the brick red floor. Watch the one thing that helps get distorted like all the love that I had before that phone call. I don’t want to feel better I should be sad, shouldn’t I? I don’t know anymore I look a way for the statue. And back to the pillow. 

            That day was the worst day of my life. Even thought everything in me wanted to just curl up in a ball, I knew that that was not an option. I had made a promise that she would be at everyone of my graduations and if I lost that fire then there would only be one that she would have missed. This is what made me want to be a perfect student in school. I really didn’t care about what the teachers thought of me. It was all for her. I think back to my middle school graduation was a mixture of happiness and sadness. I just wanted to see her there. Even though it had been three years after she had passed I still wanted to see her.

            We all walked in at the same beat. That beat that you hear at everything it marks a turning point in your life. In my head it was take a year just to get to the stag. What was the point of all of this? I thought to my self as I watched my friend walk down to there seats. After shuffling my feet like a pinging down the side of the stage, we sat down.

I was sitting there looking over the sea of people. They all looked so happy. One mom even had a banner for her daughter. It wad nice to see that they wanted to make this day big for her. My eyes found where my family was sitting. I saw my mom struggling to keep a two-year-old Destiny under control, and watch me. Then, my aunt Pat, who was more dressed up then I was. She was wearing a dress that fit her perfectly. It was a drake color but it didn’t matter her smile made it look hot pink. My dad was there sitting look as if he didn’t know what was going on. But it was ok I just wanted to leave there to.

My name was called “Byshera Moore” and then I walked down to the podium. As I took the diploma I looked one more time over the sea of people. Nowhere. She wasn’t anywhere. I could almost feel ties in my easy but I pushed then back. I sat down then was given two more awards and then it was over. Like shouting start running accost the sky. That day was over. I the next thing that I remember is being in the car driving home. I hate cars. I always feel sick when I am in them. That was my only thought the whole ride. The thought of being sick reminds me of a day a week ago.

I sit that thinking way to I keep coming here with them. As I watch my little sister dance arrowed in the booth next to my mom. My mom looks tired here a black shirt and a part of pants and is trying to keep her quite. “Dest sit down.”  She is trying to keep her voice down but I can see for the way here mouth is starting to curl up she is getting mad. My dad sitting next to me is on his phone trying to look busy. But really is not doing mush. Even though he is holding the phone up I can still see it.

 I am sitting there where my black cami and a brown and gold army like vest. It is achy, but I don’t say anything.  The table’s wood finish was glossy and dark it was nice to see. The lamps were there and but really low. But they didn’t matter that hold place was light with lights form above. I didn’t get that point but ok. The headphones are loud to the point that I cannot here anything. Eminem comes though them like medicine healing me for my pain and anger. Then my stomach started growling it was all most as loud as that music.

Biscuits where left on the table. That only thing I can think of is my grandma. We all ways eat them together every time we come here. I could not help but to think of her. No I am eating them as fast as possible that sadness is not going away “Byshera slow down” says my mom. The warm buttery biscuits and Eminem music down her out. Until.

“Are you ok?” she asks.

The biscuits and water are all over me. The brown and tan mix that was on my shirt and that sent of sickness would say no. I move as fast as I can to the bathroom sadder than I was and now angrier because I just throw up on my self. Well, that is my story of sadness and loss. So what so you think of my fall?