P6 Essay/Composition
I couldn’t sleep.
I had woken in the middle of the night the day after her death. I saw Mum sitting at the dinner table. Her face was an ashen grey with worry and her lips were set in a thin line as if she was struggling not to cry. I started to get dressed very slowly, pulling a brush through my hair. The cuffs of my cosy cardigan suddenly felt itchy and irritated against my skin. As I reached to get my hairspray, I knocked a photo off. It landed upside down on the floor. I bent down to flip it over. Big mistake.
It was Grandma, Mum, I laughing when we were at Joss Bay in Kent. Water started pooling in my tired eyes, but I rubbed them furiously, forcing them to store in the back of my dry throat.
There will always be this perpetual tightness in your chest that feels like a constant adrenaline rush and after awhile it becomes painful but it won’t stop. Why was fate so cruel when you were only fourteen?
I ran toward the door then flung it open, my heart pumping hard in my chest. I then stopped running at the foot of my garden path and squatted down, the tears running down the side of my cheeks as I forced myself to swallow the ache.
I didn’t care about anything anymore, including my own life. Her disappearance turned my whole world black and white, and I didn’t see the beauty in anything anymore. After yesterday, I wondered how others could be so happy. I had shut myself off from the world. No one would understand my relief from crying and how the littlest of things could just set me off.
This was how it all happened……
It started as an ordinary Sunday with Dad, Mum, my little brother, Tristan, and I sitting at the family table having our breakfast. Grandma was at Hyde Park with her friends and I was glad she was able to enjoy herself at an old age.
Just then, Mum’s mobile phone started to ring incessantly. She made a grasp for her phone then made a gesture to quieten Tristan and me.
“Hello? No, this is Molly Davies. But
I had woken in the middle of the night the day after her death. I saw Mum sitting at the dinner table. Her face was an ashen grey with worry and her lips were set in a thin line as if she was struggling not to cry. I started to get dressed very slowly, pulling a brush through my hair. The cuffs of my cosy cardigan suddenly felt itchy and irritated against my skin. As I reached to get my hairspray, I knocked a photo off. It landed upside down on the floor. I bent down to flip it over. Big mistake.
It was Grandma, Mum, I laughing when we were at Joss Bay in Kent. Water started pooling in my tired eyes, but I rubbed them furiously, forcing them to store in the back of my dry throat.
There will always be this perpetual tightness in your chest that feels like a constant adrenaline rush and after awhile it becomes painful but it won’t stop. Why was fate so cruel when you were only fourteen?
I ran toward the door then flung it open, my heart pumping hard in my chest. I then stopped running at the foot of my garden path and squatted down, the tears running down the side of my cheeks as I forced myself to swallow the ache.
I didn’t care about anything anymore, including my own life. Her disappearance turned my whole world black and white, and I didn’t see the beauty in anything anymore. After yesterday, I wondered how others could be so happy. I had shut myself off from the world. No one would understand my relief from crying and how the littlest of things could just set me off.
This was how it all happened……
It started as an ordinary Sunday with Dad, Mum, my little brother, Tristan, and I sitting at the family table having our breakfast. Grandma was at Hyde Park with her friends and I was glad she was able to enjoy herself at an old age.
Just then, Mum’s mobile phone started to ring incessantly. She made a grasp for her phone then made a gesture to quieten Tristan and me.
“Hello? No, this is Molly Davies. But