Tierra A.

October 8, 2010

English 10 - Period 4

Autobiographical Narrative

Final Draft

Memorable Day                         

Clink, clink was the ending of a not so perfect day. It was a month after my eighth birthday, a few weeks before my dad’s and step mom Yvette’s first year anniversary. It had been awhile since I was allowed to see my real mom and Yvette felt like she shouldn’t be in my life. My real mom, full of anger and pain, resorted to the worst coping skill, drugs. A mixture of anger, pain and drugs will sooner or later lead down a path full of regret.

         September 16th, 2003, Yvette and I were sitting in the living room in our pajamas, I remember looking at the wall behind the T.V thinking, “These apartments are old and need a paint job”, because the walls weren’t white anymore, they were yellow. It was around eight that night when Yvette was sitting on our old couch and I was sitting on the floor. My dad had just got off work an hour ago, and was in the room sleeping. Clink, clink, with that sound I was running to my dad’s room, only to get pushed out of the way by Yvette. Startled and panicked, my dad woke up. Yvette was telling him what just happened. He throws on pajama pants, and rushes out the door. I remember being frightened and thinking to myself, “Why would someone do this?”

         About five minutes passed, I grabbed a blanket and went outside. When I got out there everyone in my apartment was in the parking lot. Yvette and I were still in our pajamas. I was listening to them tell Yvette that it was my mom who broke the windows. I look around and all the car windows in both their car were broken. I remember running to my Landlord, crying. She was comforting me telling me that everything was going to be okay, and that I didn’t have to worry. All I could think was that “they were all wrong and lying, the person who broke the windows was not my mom, and she would never do that.”

         Another couple of minutes passed and I figured it was later because the moon was straight up in the sky and I was back standing next to Yvette. I was trying not to listen to her, as she talked about what she would do to my mom. When she was talking I was thinking “I wish she would touch my mom”. I was looking around and I saw that the crowed got bigger, and the people from across the street were now here. I saw my dad dragging my mom down the street by her shirt. I noticed that she fell but I wasn’t sure it she slipped or if my dad hit her, but from where I was standing it looked like he hit her. Right then and there I started thinking about this time two years ago. My mom, dad and I were one happy family just moving into the apartment, and I just couldn’t understand what happened.

         It felt like hours have passed, and we were all still in the parking lot. The only difference was that the police were now here and my mom was in hand cuffs. My dad was talking to the police and I looked at my mom. I could tell that it was not the woman that I grew to love and care about sitting there in hand cuffs. That is when it hit me, the women sitting there was not my mom, same body, but the actions, words, and eyes were all different. I remember looking into her eyes and everything about her was cold. That is when I realized that drugs are powerful and they can completely change people around us, to the point where they are not themselves.  Later everyone started to go home, with their own stories of what they think happened. I was still in shock. I was scared to sleep by myself so I slept in my Dad’s room with him. For two months straight I couldn’t sleep by myself. I remember crying outside the door and Yvette telling me “Shut up, me and your dad are trying to have sex.” Sitting there trying to comprehend what she just told me is when I started to hate her.

               Now looking back on everything that happened, I understand how drugs take over people. I understand that not everyone is perfect, and go through rough situations. But what I still have a hard time understanding is how people get so angry, and have so much pain to the point where they turn to drugs as there only exit.  Overall this is how I see that a mixture of anger, pain and drugs will sooner or later lead down a path full of regret.