I'm still revising my essay...
I have to finish it at least before 11/30
My essay is about my life after my mother's death
One of my friends reviewed it and said that my essay does not tell many things about me
Any harsh comments or advises are welcomed!
'Excuse me, is your mom home?'
Typical question they usually asked me after confirming a young voice of the junior recipient. I used to get this kind of uninvited phone calls at least once a day. Phone calls made to randomly picked numbers from a list that they somehow acquired. These phone calls were usually about new insurance item or home shopping catalogues. Five seconds were enough to hang up the call. Nevertheless, that short moment was such an agonizing experience to me back then.
Growing up without mom since I was 13, I am used to doing everything by myself. I did my laundry, prepared meals, washed dishes, and even took care of my younger brother since I was a little boy. I was much more independent than other boys at my age, and wanted others to respect it. However, many people did not seem to recognize me as a strong and independent individual. They just wanted to consider me as a helpless little boy and felt sorry for me form their self-made misconception about me. Discontent about not being realized as a strong individual, I grew hypersensitive about trivial things that seemed to neglect my independence. Phone calls looking for my mom were the most intolerable because they both reminded me my painful memories and neglected my pride as a strong individual. I knew that they did not intend on hurting my feelings, but every time I answered those phone calls, I felt as if they are mocking me intentionally. Answering spam calls left me in depression with a melancholy feeling for the rest of the day. Nevertheless, now I know it is a funny thing to be afraid of those anonymous phone-callers. I do not hesitate to answer phone calls any more. Small incident from my typical day changed everything.
It was an ordinary afternoon when the incident happened. On that typical afternoon, I was on my daily routine, helping out my brother with his homework. The phone rang. I was the one to pick up the call.
'Hello.'
'Excuse me. I have a wonderful insurance item for you. Uh...May I talk to your mom?'
'It was just the same kind of phone calls that I used to get hundreds of times. I could just hang up the phone as I had done before. However, this time was a little different. There was a brief pause. Neither one of us said a word.
'Hello?' Are you still there?'
Somehow I found myself coming up with an unexpected response.
'I take care of everything by myself. You should talk to me if you got some business.'
'...'
There was a beeping sound indicating that the call was disconnected. I guess she was quite surprised by my response. I still do not know how those words came out from my mouth. All I remember is that I just wanted others to recognize how independent and strong I was. I felt much better after throwing out the words that was imbedded deep in my heart. Suddenly, the door opened with a cracking sound and my dad came in.
'Who was calling?'
'Nothing, she called on a wrong number.'
I have to finish it at least before 11/30
My essay is about my life after my mother's death
One of my friends reviewed it and said that my essay does not tell many things about me
Any harsh comments or advises are welcomed!
'Excuse me, is your mom home?'
Typical question they usually asked me after confirming a young voice of the junior recipient. I used to get this kind of uninvited phone calls at least once a day. Phone calls made to randomly picked numbers from a list that they somehow acquired. These phone calls were usually about new insurance item or home shopping catalogues. Five seconds were enough to hang up the call. Nevertheless, that short moment was such an agonizing experience to me back then.
Growing up without mom since I was 13, I am used to doing everything by myself. I did my laundry, prepared meals, washed dishes, and even took care of my younger brother since I was a little boy. I was much more independent than other boys at my age, and wanted others to respect it. However, many people did not seem to recognize me as a strong and independent individual. They just wanted to consider me as a helpless little boy and felt sorry for me form their self-made misconception about me. Discontent about not being realized as a strong individual, I grew hypersensitive about trivial things that seemed to neglect my independence. Phone calls looking for my mom were the most intolerable because they both reminded me my painful memories and neglected my pride as a strong individual. I knew that they did not intend on hurting my feelings, but every time I answered those phone calls, I felt as if they are mocking me intentionally. Answering spam calls left me in depression with a melancholy feeling for the rest of the day. Nevertheless, now I know it is a funny thing to be afraid of those anonymous phone-callers. I do not hesitate to answer phone calls any more. Small incident from my typical day changed everything.
It was an ordinary afternoon when the incident happened. On that typical afternoon, I was on my daily routine, helping out my brother with his homework. The phone rang. I was the one to pick up the call.
'Hello.'
'Excuse me. I have a wonderful insurance item for you. Uh...May I talk to your mom?'
'It was just the same kind of phone calls that I used to get hundreds of times. I could just hang up the phone as I had done before. However, this time was a little different. There was a brief pause. Neither one of us said a word.
'Hello?' Are you still there?'
Somehow I found myself coming up with an unexpected response.
'I take care of everything by myself. You should talk to me if you got some business.'
'...'
There was a beeping sound indicating that the call was disconnected. I guess she was quite surprised by my response. I still do not know how those words came out from my mouth. All I remember is that I just wanted others to recognize how independent and strong I was. I felt much better after throwing out the words that was imbedded deep in my heart. Suddenly, the door opened with a cracking sound and my dad came in.
'Who was calling?'
'Nothing, she called on a wrong number.'
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