Before completing this weeks blog post we were given a short story, My Mother Gives me a Writing Lesson (Martin Lee), which provided information on creating action in writing with details and description. This blog post will consist of me revising and adding to my story from blog post #5.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As I sat in math class during my freshman year of highschool, in my own little world, I felt my stomach twisting and wrapping itself up into one of those ridiculous pretzel yoga positions. I felt like my brain had lost it's operator, like that one episode of Spongebob where all his thoughts and memories were exploding all over the place. I was trying so hard to imagine all the possible places my mom could've been that morning. It was just so unlike her. She drove me to school every morning. ZZZZ ZZZ. I felt my phone buzz in the back pocket of the sweatpants I had on the night before, because of how hectic my morning was I just ran out the door for school without changing. I excused myself from the classroom and shuffled into the hallway to check my text message. It was from my dad. “Your mom was in a motorcycle accident late last night. I don’t know if she is going to be okay.” I felt the olive color of my skin flush to white from head to toe. My stomach released from that tight yoga position and exploded throughout my entire body. My throat closed up and I could feel my eyes leaking uncontrollably. As I navigated through the humid, grey concrete hallways, all I was focused on was catching my breath. I made it to my Jeep and attempted to gather myself before driving to Hahnemann Hospital. All I could think about was the argument her and I had the night before which ended in me slamming my door in her face. I replayed everything in my head. It is completely mind-blowing to me how that morning, the second I opened my eyes, I immediately had a funny feeling in my stomach. I had no clue why, but I did. Come to find out my mom had went out for a drink after our argument the previous night. She got on a motorcycle with some drunk dude bribing her with cheesesteaks in the city. Little did she know he would hit a vehicle head on, causing her to fly off the back. He ditched the Ben Franklin Parkway because some how he was not injured at all, leaving her there to be rescued by the ambulance. I truly believe she has a guardian angel watching over her. The vibe in that place was dreary, and clenched onto me as soon as I stepped foot in the door. The smell of sanitation and rubber gloves crept up my nose. I trekked up to the fifth floor where my mom was being kept. The doctors approached me and told me she was lucky to be alive. She had a cracked skull, a fractured spine, and a bunch of cuts and bruises. I remember thinking to myself, “Never leave a loved one on a bad note. No matter what the issue is, if you’re saying goodbye for the day, tell them you love them.”
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