This writing was the narrative essay of my English 10 class of sophomore year (as of writing this, I still am in sophomore class). The subject was to tell us about our most fondest memory.
This was mine.
It was my first spring break while I was in school; I was a kindergartener at the time. My mother and I decided to visit her friend Bill in Miami for the last few days of our relaxed week. But, little did I know these last days would shatter my very core and being for the rest of my life.
I awoke in the guest room bed with my mother still snoring next to me. I shook her like an earthquake to wake her up; I was extremely elated for what was going to happen today. She finally arose like a sleepy, grouchy bear. She glared down at me coldly, then a heart-warming smile appeared across her face; I could not help boomeranging a smile back at her. I jolted out of bed and quickly got dress in my frilly pink dress, while mom poured herself out of bed and sluggishly got dressed. I ran up to her with my favorite bright red bow and tugged on her shirt. “Hey mommy, could you put this on for me?” I asked politely with a puppy face. She knows she could not resist the charm of her only daughter. “Alright” she said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I guess I should, hop up here.” She patted the bed, but I insisted it would be cozier on her lap. She tied my special ribbon into my hair, and I quickly bolted out of the room. I glanced up at the clock with a shocked look. It was 3 o’clock. I remembered Bill saying he goes to work from 7 to 3, so he should have been home any second now. And I was right. As mom walked in fluffing her dark auburn curls up, Bill walked in; stretching and exhausted. “So the fair starts at 6, would you two like to go?” Bill said, questioning us suddenly. My mother brought up an answer without thought. “We’d love to go with you, Bill.” She bent down to my eye level and questioned me next. “Do you want to go to the fair, Savannah?” she said, smiling brightly. I tilted my head in desperation and confusion, I was too young to know what a fair was; but in my head, it sounded more fun than cartoons. “I’d love to!” I exclaimed. I should have just said no thank you.