Memories Fade Away Through My Fingertips English Literature Essay

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While other children were enjoying themselves playing, I was trying to reconstruct my childhood from tragedy. My underdeveloped, innocent mind did not quite understand the situation at the time. Years later, I realized the severity of the event. Although the situation took a while to settle in, the extreme emotions I went through were as if it just happened yesterday. The disaster destroyed one of the few good true, friendships I have had. Gaby was not only my best friend but a sister. The day she left my life, a part of my heart went with her. Death affects people in many ways; some good, some bad, and some for the better.

        Death for me was an unforgettable experience; it taught me how tomorrow is not guaranteed. Gaby's death was the most significant childhood memory; no matter how much I try to erase the memory and the pain, the memory of that day will not fade away. I still remember the pink and white flower dress, the white high heel, closed-toed shoes with white cotton rimmed with pink lace on the top, and her curly, silky, black hair that made her more beautiful than words can describe. Her smile that day was unbelievable. The smile that says I am happy to be alive, I am happy to be here. Somehow looking back at that day, it almost seemed like she was prepared for what was going to happen.         

        That day seemed like an eternity, I can still remember every single second. At the age of six, my parents thought I was not mature enough to understand what was going on. They sat me down, told me that I wasn't allowed to see her anymore at least not for a while. This angered me, I felt like she moved away, like all the other kids in our small town. People did not usually last long periods of time; they preferred big, bountiful cities, with good education and more elegant landscapes. My mind did not fully capture the situation, I looked outside my dark, bedroom window; I looked across the street and saw that her house was brightly light and with people surrounding it. I wanted to go across, see what was going on, but my parents would not allow it.

        Days passed and I still did not understand why I could not see her. She was my best friend; I did not spend much time away from her. These days seemed like weeks. Every day I would stare outside my windows, and look towards her highly populated and gloomy house, wonder why I saw her brother, mother, and father but never saw her. I finally gained the courage to ask again, to ask why I could not see her or talk to her. My mother frowned and  with a very concerned and sympathetic look, she told me that she had died in the car accident. That car accident was my foe; it took her away from me. I looked into my mother's eyes and for the first time, cried.  For the first time, i cried not because I was mad, happy, or scared; I was despaired. My eyes cried so many tears, it felt as if there was no more tears left in my body, no more feeling. I felt emotionless. To me, feeling no emotion was worse, because I bottled my feelings up, hid them, and stored them in the back of my mind.

        Her house seemed so empty, lifeless almost. Gaby made her house come to life, with her enthusiastic laugh and empowering smile. The day of Gaby's funeral, it was exactly the opposite. There was no laughter, no smiles, no her. It was almost as an abandoned, creepy house; no one wanted to be there but they knew the longer they stayed, the longer they would have to find a reason to be there. The coffin was blacker than midnight. The red, fresh cut roses on the wide pedestal beside her dark coffin looked almost blood tainted. Gaby looked whiter than snow; she had her eyes peacefully closed. She looked so peaceful, like an angel lying on a white, puffy cloud. Peaceful was far from what I felt.

        Gaby was a great impact on my life, now and then, alive or not. Her death was very hard to overcome, some days I feel as though she is still a part of my life, a part of my life that I don't want to forget. Death is never good, it always changes you for the best or for the worst; sometimes it makes you a better person, sometimes a worse person than they were before. I didn't want to lose her but I did, I had to. I had no other choice. If I had the choice, I would have kept her. People don't deserve to die, but it's a fact of life. At one point, we all die. Unfortunately, Gaby died young but there was a better plan for her somewhere else.

Questions for Identifying and assessing audience

Who would enjoy reading about my topic?

People that have lost significant people in their life.

Who shares an interest in my topic?

People that have experience the death of some important. Someone that wants to relate to others about their grief.

Who would find my topic important?

People of all ages and sizes that know what death does to a family or to even friends.

Who could learn something from my writing? Who needs to hear what I have to say?

People that want to read about someone going through a hard time, that way they won't feel so alone. People that have barely experienced someone dying, could learn from my writing that it does get better, over time.

Who could be influenced to think or act in a particular way?

I am persuading my audience to think positive and move on, that's what's bet. Time heals all wounds.

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