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Prompt #2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
It was a hot afternoon; my grandma was busy washing the dishes while my mother was preparing for work. I was in the living room, curled up on a couch reading about the antics of Junie B. Jones. Before my mother left for work, she reminded me that my little brother was in the other room sleeping, and that I should not forget to check in on him periodically. Once I heard the loud "slam" of the garage door, I closed my book, raced towards the freezer, and grabbed an ice cream bar. Knowing that my grandma would scold me for eating ice cream, I retreated to the safety of my bedroom and proceeded to eat my treat there.
It was only minutes before I heard multiple slams and frantic shouts. Curious, I headed to the garage door and opened it. Six years of life did not prepare me for what I saw; my baby brother, lying under our family car, surrounded by a puddle of his own blood. My mother and grandma were on the ground, trying to pull him out from under the car. I watched dazedly until, after what seemed like hours, they were finally able to retrieve him. Pushing me aside, my mother rushed into the house and proceeded to call 911. I stood next to her, quietly asking whether he was going to be okay. In response, she gave me a sharp slap across the face and said, "You should have been watching him."
Shocked, I retreated back to my bedroom and cried myself to sleep until I awoke to the loud knocks on my door. It was my grandma, telling me that I had to tell the police what happened since she didn't know English and my mother was already at the hospital with my brother. Cleaning myself of the dried tears, I went and told the police all I knew. I didn't know exactly how my brother was hurt, but thankfully I was spared the trouble of answering when my father arrived with my older sister; my mother had already filled him in on what happened. Apparently, my mother went back inside to use the bathroom and while she was in there, my brother got up and went to go look for her. When he saw the garage door open, he went outside and stood behind the car until my mother, unknowingly, backed into him.
By the time I arrived at the hospital with my family, all my aunts and uncles, were already there. When they saw me enter the children's ward, they all rushed towards me, each one yelling the same thing; why wasn't I watching him? I recall the officers at the scene saying that it was nobody's fault, that it was just an accident, but who was I going to believe, a stranger with a shiny badge, or all the adults in my life? A child's mind is highly susceptible at the age of six; if you repeat to them something enough, they will believe it.
Still feeling guilty about it to this day, I assumed the role of "responsible older sister." Often, I found myself making him dinner, checking his homework, and reading to him. That incident reflects heavily on who I am today; I take my responsibilities very seriously, knowing that my actions could lead to a life or death situation.
Prompt #2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
It was a hot afternoon; my grandma was busy washing the dishes while my mother was preparing for work. I was in the living room, curled up on a couch reading about the antics of Junie B. Jones. Before my mother left for work, she reminded me that my little brother was in the other room sleeping, and that I should not forget to check in on him periodically. Once I heard the loud "slam" of the garage door, I closed my book, raced towards the freezer, and grabbed an ice cream bar. Knowing that my grandma would scold me for eating ice cream, I retreated to the safety of my bedroom and proceeded to eat my treat there.
It was only minutes before I heard multiple slams and frantic shouts. Curious, I headed to the garage door and opened it. Six years of life did not prepare me for what I saw; my baby brother, lying under our family car, surrounded by a puddle of his own blood. My mother and grandma were on the ground, trying to pull him out from under the car. I watched dazedly until, after what seemed like hours, they were finally able to retrieve him. Pushing me aside, my mother rushed into the house and proceeded to call 911. I stood next to her, quietly asking whether he was going to be okay. In response, she gave me a sharp slap across the face and said, "You should have been watching him."
Shocked, I retreated back to my bedroom and cried myself to sleep until I awoke to the loud knocks on my door. It was my grandma, telling me that I had to tell the police what happened since she didn't know English and my mother was already at the hospital with my brother. Cleaning myself of the dried tears, I went and told the police all I knew. I didn't know exactly how my brother was hurt, but thankfully I was spared the trouble of answering when my father arrived with my older sister; my mother had already filled him in on what happened. Apparently, my mother went back inside to use the bathroom and while she was in there, my brother got up and went to go look for her. When he saw the garage door open, he went outside and stood behind the car until my mother, unknowingly, backed into him.
By the time I arrived at the hospital with my family, all my aunts and uncles, were already there. When they saw me enter the children's ward, they all rushed towards me, each one yelling the same thing; why wasn't I watching him? I recall the officers at the scene saying that it was nobody's fault, that it was just an accident, but who was I going to believe, a stranger with a shiny badge, or all the adults in my life? A child's mind is highly susceptible at the age of six; if you repeat to them something enough, they will believe it.
Still feeling guilty about it to this day, I assumed the role of "responsible older sister." Often, I found myself making him dinner, checking his homework, and reading to him. That incident reflects heavily on who I am today; I take my responsibilities very seriously, knowing that my actions could lead to a life or death situation.
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