Narrative Rough Draft
tration EssayAm I Write?
Illustration Essay: Topic #1
By Stevin Wilkins
English 1A
January 29, 2013
I never used to write. In fact, I didn’t much like it. Little did I know that writing would become obsolete and a physiological requirement for the well being of my life. From an early age on all I did was read. I grew up in an isolated environment where books were my escape, and escape was necessary from the hardships of home. I remember being a young seven-year-old boy wearing a pillowcase around my neck fastened with a pen. I was eating animal crackers at the time, and my step dad was calling out for me. I stood up from my crouched position and raised my hand as I learned from pre-school, and said, “ I’m here daddy.” At that moment my step father grabbed me by the cape harshly compressing my trachea purposefully, shaking me back and forth with his hands around my neck as I began to choke on the appetizing cracker animal crumbs within the back of my throat. I didn’t understand at the time what was really going on. My mother came out of the room and my dad acted as if nothing happened and told me to …show more content…
I began writing in that journal as if I had written for years, pouring my heart out and staining those pages with my hurt filled anguish and severely damaged perceptions of love. Staining those lines with lead and eraser marks began to lift off a burdensome mountain of oppression put upon me by my child hood, allowing me to be reborn anew, like a phoenix from the ash of death. I began to share more with my social workers and slowly began to feel again! To appreciate life in it’s most little of simplicities was something I could have never experienced without the power to write. And that is why I can relate to “Why I Write”, by Joan Didion. The first descriptive sentence says so much. In fact, she need not say more. Joan Didion
Illustration Essay: Topic #1
By Stevin Wilkins
English 1A
January 29, 2013
I never used to write. In fact, I didn’t much like it. Little did I know that writing would become obsolete and a physiological requirement for the well being of my life. From an early age on all I did was read. I grew up in an isolated environment where books were my escape, and escape was necessary from the hardships of home. I remember being a young seven-year-old boy wearing a pillowcase around my neck fastened with a pen. I was eating animal crackers at the time, and my step dad was calling out for me. I stood up from my crouched position and raised my hand as I learned from pre-school, and said, “ I’m here daddy.” At that moment my step father grabbed me by the cape harshly compressing my trachea purposefully, shaking me back and forth with his hands around my neck as I began to choke on the appetizing cracker animal crumbs within the back of my throat. I didn’t understand at the time what was really going on. My mother came out of the room and my dad acted as if nothing happened and told me to …show more content…
I began writing in that journal as if I had written for years, pouring my heart out and staining those pages with my hurt filled anguish and severely damaged perceptions of love. Staining those lines with lead and eraser marks began to lift off a burdensome mountain of oppression put upon me by my child hood, allowing me to be reborn anew, like a phoenix from the ash of death. I began to share more with my social workers and slowly began to feel again! To appreciate life in it’s most little of simplicities was something I could have never experienced without the power to write. And that is why I can relate to “Why I Write”, by Joan Didion. The first descriptive sentence says so much. In fact, she need not say more. Joan Didion