This essay is about 1000 words. I was wondering if that is too much and whether the experience is interesting. I could have written about ( My life experience in 3 different continents, or my mother's death by colon cancer)
Like many people, I have an image of a place of absolute peace; a silent place where all my worries evaporate and my mind floats freely. My image was a bit different. For many mornings I used to wake up just before the sun rise, and climb the stairs up to the roof. The roof was just a square of emptiness with few satellite dishes, which caught signals in the same way a sunflower catches sun light, and a storage room situated right on the center. Once on the roof, I grab the ladder from the storage room and hold it against the room's wall. Few steps upward are what take me to be on highest spot around. I would sit, crossed legged, facing east. I didn't wait long until the sun rise. It's such a soothing scene the sun with its soft light rays, not too bright or too hot. From the roof I became a witness of the entire world around me coming to life, birds singing, construction workers working, and cars travelling. But what truly cuddles my senses is the apparent lustrous sphere rising above the horizon, glowing beyond the earth, reflecting upon the water droplets, responsible for the journey from my bed to the roof.
My childhood was a blend of all emotions, some of it joyful, other sorrowful. If I went back to remember my life from its start, one of my earliest memories is of the time I spent with my first friend riding a bicycle. Hanging out on our bikes was a daily activity. One of these days was very special. We had decided to get on our wheels and ride around the block. My mom was resting on the living room sofa watching the news. "Mom, is it OK if we take our bikes around the block?" she hesitated a moment before answering, "I guess. Just don't go too far, stay off the street you need to ride on the side walk." I nodded my head, acknowledging her rules and set off to meet up with my friend. Just before I left, I sensed a siren noise coming from the TV, having a six years old curiosity I shifted my gaze to the TV. It was a siren sound, "Nothing special" I said to myself with a smirk on my face, and not wanting to waste time I kept marching towards the door as the siren sound began to fade slowly.
I walked to the door, opened it, and found my friend sitting on the doorstep waiting for me. We set off on our new bikes. We felt like two teenagers who just got their driving license and began to drive. We were riding on the side walk, freely without worry, smiling without a reason, rolling along with the other kids. All of us thought riding a bicycle was a dream came true. We were as glad as a sixteen year old who is driving a car for the first time. "Let's ride on the street. It's so much bigger; and we could go faster," my friend proposed. "No," I stalled. "I have to stay on the side walk. I promised, and beside cars could hit us, it's not fun when we get hurt".
Stubborn folks drive themselves to cliff's edge, and quite often they fall. My friend didn't listen to me; he proceeded with his plan. He looked left and right, and when the street was clear he shouted "it's all clear," and with his bike he leaped on the road. We drove side by side like two birds flying amid the clouds in a sunny day. We decided to race to the intersection where a bulky oak tree was planted. Its branches extended far into the street, making it difficult for people on either side to get a clear view. "Go!" we screamed and started racing. I was ahead at first, and then my friend managed to pull some hidden strength and passed me. I stopped ten feet away from the turn since my friend was winning any way.
Even though I my stop, my friend racing to the turn. I heard a sound. It was getting clearer over time. It was a car's an engine noise. A car come into sight and faced my friend. The car driver slammed on the breaks. The car skidded at high speed and struck my friend. My friend flew over the car and landed, his flight resembled a rainbow shape. I rushed back to his house and slammed the door. "Open, open, open! " I shouted. While I was busy swinging, my friend's older brother opened the door. I didn't notice him opening the door so I kept swinging and hit him in his groin area. He fell flat on the ground like his brother. "Hit, hit, a car hit your brother. Blood, blood all over the place." his mom came out and heard what I said, unlike her son, who the pain prevented him from paying attention to me. A look of fear combined with amazement was on her face. She started running, but shortly after she fell on the doorstep, started crying, and on the floor she remained. "Where?" The elder brother uttered from his resting place in a heart bounding voice waiting for a reply from me to sooth it. I merely lifted my hand and pointed to the car. He rushed to where I pointed. I heard another siren; however, that siren was a real ambulance, and not a plain sound echoing from a TV. My feet froze to the ground as I looked at my friend who was in his brother's arms. Men dressed in white took my friend into the ambulance. I blinked, and then I saw my friend tied to a bed looking at me, while a liquid poured into his body form a tube.
The accident was an arduous experience for both me and my friend. My friend recovered and moved on. We went on separate roads, but in years we haven't heard news from each other. I hope he is doing fine. Now as I drive every day to school and see the sun rise above the horizon, the memory of that day come to life and I remember a lesson I learned a long time ago: life goes on. Every day is a new page, a new beginning. Life's road is a hectic street full of stop lights.
Like many people, I have an image of a place of absolute peace; a silent place where all my worries evaporate and my mind floats freely. My image was a bit different. For many mornings I used to wake up just before the sun rise, and climb the stairs up to the roof. The roof was just a square of emptiness with few satellite dishes, which caught signals in the same way a sunflower catches sun light, and a storage room situated right on the center. Once on the roof, I grab the ladder from the storage room and hold it against the room's wall. Few steps upward are what take me to be on highest spot around. I would sit, crossed legged, facing east. I didn't wait long until the sun rise. It's such a soothing scene the sun with its soft light rays, not too bright or too hot. From the roof I became a witness of the entire world around me coming to life, birds singing, construction workers working, and cars travelling. But what truly cuddles my senses is the apparent lustrous sphere rising above the horizon, glowing beyond the earth, reflecting upon the water droplets, responsible for the journey from my bed to the roof.
My childhood was a blend of all emotions, some of it joyful, other sorrowful. If I went back to remember my life from its start, one of my earliest memories is of the time I spent with my first friend riding a bicycle. Hanging out on our bikes was a daily activity. One of these days was very special. We had decided to get on our wheels and ride around the block. My mom was resting on the living room sofa watching the news. "Mom, is it OK if we take our bikes around the block?" she hesitated a moment before answering, "I guess. Just don't go too far, stay off the street you need to ride on the side walk." I nodded my head, acknowledging her rules and set off to meet up with my friend. Just before I left, I sensed a siren noise coming from the TV, having a six years old curiosity I shifted my gaze to the TV. It was a siren sound, "Nothing special" I said to myself with a smirk on my face, and not wanting to waste time I kept marching towards the door as the siren sound began to fade slowly.
I walked to the door, opened it, and found my friend sitting on the doorstep waiting for me. We set off on our new bikes. We felt like two teenagers who just got their driving license and began to drive. We were riding on the side walk, freely without worry, smiling without a reason, rolling along with the other kids. All of us thought riding a bicycle was a dream came true. We were as glad as a sixteen year old who is driving a car for the first time. "Let's ride on the street. It's so much bigger; and we could go faster," my friend proposed. "No," I stalled. "I have to stay on the side walk. I promised, and beside cars could hit us, it's not fun when we get hurt".
Stubborn folks drive themselves to cliff's edge, and quite often they fall. My friend didn't listen to me; he proceeded with his plan. He looked left and right, and when the street was clear he shouted "it's all clear," and with his bike he leaped on the road. We drove side by side like two birds flying amid the clouds in a sunny day. We decided to race to the intersection where a bulky oak tree was planted. Its branches extended far into the street, making it difficult for people on either side to get a clear view. "Go!" we screamed and started racing. I was ahead at first, and then my friend managed to pull some hidden strength and passed me. I stopped ten feet away from the turn since my friend was winning any way.
Even though I my stop, my friend racing to the turn. I heard a sound. It was getting clearer over time. It was a car's an engine noise. A car come into sight and faced my friend. The car driver slammed on the breaks. The car skidded at high speed and struck my friend. My friend flew over the car and landed, his flight resembled a rainbow shape. I rushed back to his house and slammed the door. "Open, open, open! " I shouted. While I was busy swinging, my friend's older brother opened the door. I didn't notice him opening the door so I kept swinging and hit him in his groin area. He fell flat on the ground like his brother. "Hit, hit, a car hit your brother. Blood, blood all over the place." his mom came out and heard what I said, unlike her son, who the pain prevented him from paying attention to me. A look of fear combined with amazement was on her face. She started running, but shortly after she fell on the doorstep, started crying, and on the floor she remained. "Where?" The elder brother uttered from his resting place in a heart bounding voice waiting for a reply from me to sooth it. I merely lifted my hand and pointed to the car. He rushed to where I pointed. I heard another siren; however, that siren was a real ambulance, and not a plain sound echoing from a TV. My feet froze to the ground as I looked at my friend who was in his brother's arms. Men dressed in white took my friend into the ambulance. I blinked, and then I saw my friend tied to a bed looking at me, while a liquid poured into his body form a tube.
The accident was an arduous experience for both me and my friend. My friend recovered and moved on. We went on separate roads, but in years we haven't heard news from each other. I hope he is doing fine. Now as I drive every day to school and see the sun rise above the horizon, the memory of that day come to life and I remember a lesson I learned a long time ago: life goes on. Every day is a new page, a new beginning. Life's road is a hectic street full of stop lights.
