Elfen
Call Me Robbi :D
- Joined
- May 31, 2010
- Location
- Some where familiar
Well im Robert, this was for my English class, had to write 5 entries of my life as a memoir. here is the first entry.
Jolly or Derisory?
Joyful screams of glee sprang through the care center in Plano, Texas. A little boy ran towards someone, screaming, “MOMMY!!” The little boy jumped up to hug her. That little boy was me when I was few years old in foster care. I didn’t let go of her till my grandma snapped at me to let her breathe. I silently obeyed and waddled over to my grandparents and hugged them.
When I looked back, my mom gave me a smug look as she was taken aback by the comments my grandmother had made towards her. My mother said “I want to see my baby boy, I miss him so much.” But by the look on her face, I knew it wasn’t true. So I drifted over to my sister, who had open hands, smiling, and saying, “Will! It’s so good to see you. Let’s go play. So, somberly, I went over to my sister, and threw my arms around her, and gave her a big hug. Mean while, my brothers where chattering amongst themselves, as my grandparents and my mother where silently arguing amongst themselves.
So, as young as I was, I just giggled and flailed my arms as I hugged my sister again. I always enjoyed the family time that we had together because I never got to see my brother, Arron, and my sister, Amanda on every visit. The only came in once or twice a month because Arron lived forty five miles away in Terrell, Texas, on an emu ranch. So it was real hard for them to calculate visits in Plano with their schedule and living so far away in a narrow time frame. On the other hand, my sister, Amanda, who was around four years of age, lived in another part of Plano which made it a little easier for her to attend the visits and I got to see her more than I did Arron. So in all, being the youngest, it really didn’t matter to me at this time, I enjoyed being the baby of the family. That meant. Hopefully most of the attention would be diverted to me. Fortunately, my oldest brother J.W. lived in my house and I got to see him all the time. My dad on the other hand, was living in Wiley, Texas, running his own business. But to my disarray, they would not allow him to visit, due to the fact my mother was the primary care taker to the divorce and he had limited visiting rights. Somehow, they would never set up scheduled visitations with my father. Then there were my grandparents, both who were kind hearted, well except for my grandma. She meant well, but she was very strict and into disciplinary actions to keep us in line, well while we were there at the care center.
My grandmother pulled out lunch from her satchel of goodies she always brought. Like most grandmothers, they loved to give out candy, but she always made us eat our original meals first. We sat around a small table and ate the lunchables she gave us and the adults started to converse with one another. I just sat there and ate in silence staring into the blank void of nothingness as my sister, Amanda, who was done with her meal, asked me to play with her. Of course I obliged her, and as I was close to finishing my meal I joined her.
“What do you want to do, Amana.” I cheerfully asked as my sister pulled out toys and other miscellaneous stuff. We started to play together, and after few minutes of me saying nothing, it soon ended up me saying something along the lines of, “This is boring, Amana!” I then pouted before throwing down the toys and wobbled over to my eldest brother, J.W. I pulled on his sleeve trying to get his attention. “Dubayou, play with me!” Of course he was busy with my other brother, Arron, playing who knows what with him. But he immediately averted his attention and said, “Will, what do you want!” in a hasty tone before ignoring me once again. But I was persistent, and said, “DUB! I’m bored, play with me now!” In all of J.W.’s haste, he dropped his stuff and began to play with me. In all of the time I was there, I was bored and lonely at the place, so what else was there to do? I went to the corner and lay on a pillow and closed my eyes and fell asleep. I guess it was a few minutes later before my grandmother woke me up from my peaceful slumber, claiming I needed to help clean up the mess everyone had made. I thought to myself, ‘Why did I have to clean up a mess I didn’t even make! I had done hardly anything during the visit. A few hugs and a couple minutes of napping. Sheesh, I didn’t deserve this.’ But reluctantly, I obeyed what was asked of me. As I started to pick up some of the trash, my grandmother started the vacuum cleaner and it scared me to near death. I jumped and began to cry. I know it sounds pathetic, but I started to run away from the atrocious mechanical device, towards my mother, who picked me up and kissed me on the cheek. I know it didn’t sound like much, but for the moment it comforted me, and she said,
“Its’ okay baby boy, I’m here to protect you.” She hugged me and brought me out side to my foster dad’s car, and it was time for the visit to be over. J.W. came out as well and got in the car. Soon after, I fell asleep in the care and awakened in the morning in my own bed.
* * *
I held my blanky close to me as I went into my foster brother’s room, where my real brother was, who was at that time preoccupied playing video games. As a child, who couldn’t and wouldn’t stand still, I gathered pillows, toys, and other things that I could use to build a fort for myself. I stacked it up just big enough for me to fit inside. I put a blanket over top to make the project to be complete. It was just big enough for me to fit inside it comfortably. As I was sitting inside it, enjoying what I accomplished, my brother took a pillow from the side and the fort crumbled. I quickly went to my brother, who was sitting on the pillow now, and tried to yank it out from under him.
“Give it back, Dubayou!” Tears were swelling in my eyes as a I kept on chanting the same phrase over and over, “Give it back, Dubayou!” till I gave up and went to the couch and began to cry. Then a queer thing happened. My foster dad came into the room and told me to shut up.
I said, “But, but, he took my pillow,”He snapped back at me, saying, “Shut up you little brat or you’ll get a spanking!” By now, I was pouting like crazy, as the crying increased, so did the anger, but do you know what that man did? He grabbed my arm and started to spank me, making me cry even more. “Are you going to stop crying now, you little baby?” The dad yelled at me. Of course I wasn’t going to stop, I just got spanked!
* * *
I hugged my white blanky tightly as I made my way towards the kitchen. The mom made a lot of spaghetti and put a lot on the plate. Too much for my little tummy to handle, so to quell their stares at me, I ate as much as I could, which wasn’t much to be exact. So the dad told me to go out to the hall, I obeyed as ordered.
“Why didn’t you eat all of the food we gave you?” He grabbed my blanky and asked me again, but in a more aggressive tone. “Again, WHY DIDN’T YOU EAT YOUR FOOD!” I was about to answer before he ripped my favorite blanket in half. I started to cry and sat down sobbing before he sent me to my room. I was throwing a tantrum, a bad one, since he locked the door. I put my torn up blanket to the door handle and cried, and attempted to pull the door open. My favorite blanket tore even more, which caused wails to come out of my mouth.
meh, good, bad?
Jolly or Derisory?
Joyful screams of glee sprang through the care center in Plano, Texas. A little boy ran towards someone, screaming, “MOMMY!!” The little boy jumped up to hug her. That little boy was me when I was few years old in foster care. I didn’t let go of her till my grandma snapped at me to let her breathe. I silently obeyed and waddled over to my grandparents and hugged them.
When I looked back, my mom gave me a smug look as she was taken aback by the comments my grandmother had made towards her. My mother said “I want to see my baby boy, I miss him so much.” But by the look on her face, I knew it wasn’t true. So I drifted over to my sister, who had open hands, smiling, and saying, “Will! It’s so good to see you. Let’s go play. So, somberly, I went over to my sister, and threw my arms around her, and gave her a big hug. Mean while, my brothers where chattering amongst themselves, as my grandparents and my mother where silently arguing amongst themselves.
So, as young as I was, I just giggled and flailed my arms as I hugged my sister again. I always enjoyed the family time that we had together because I never got to see my brother, Arron, and my sister, Amanda on every visit. The only came in once or twice a month because Arron lived forty five miles away in Terrell, Texas, on an emu ranch. So it was real hard for them to calculate visits in Plano with their schedule and living so far away in a narrow time frame. On the other hand, my sister, Amanda, who was around four years of age, lived in another part of Plano which made it a little easier for her to attend the visits and I got to see her more than I did Arron. So in all, being the youngest, it really didn’t matter to me at this time, I enjoyed being the baby of the family. That meant. Hopefully most of the attention would be diverted to me. Fortunately, my oldest brother J.W. lived in my house and I got to see him all the time. My dad on the other hand, was living in Wiley, Texas, running his own business. But to my disarray, they would not allow him to visit, due to the fact my mother was the primary care taker to the divorce and he had limited visiting rights. Somehow, they would never set up scheduled visitations with my father. Then there were my grandparents, both who were kind hearted, well except for my grandma. She meant well, but she was very strict and into disciplinary actions to keep us in line, well while we were there at the care center.
My grandmother pulled out lunch from her satchel of goodies she always brought. Like most grandmothers, they loved to give out candy, but she always made us eat our original meals first. We sat around a small table and ate the lunchables she gave us and the adults started to converse with one another. I just sat there and ate in silence staring into the blank void of nothingness as my sister, Amanda, who was done with her meal, asked me to play with her. Of course I obliged her, and as I was close to finishing my meal I joined her.
“What do you want to do, Amana.” I cheerfully asked as my sister pulled out toys and other miscellaneous stuff. We started to play together, and after few minutes of me saying nothing, it soon ended up me saying something along the lines of, “This is boring, Amana!” I then pouted before throwing down the toys and wobbled over to my eldest brother, J.W. I pulled on his sleeve trying to get his attention. “Dubayou, play with me!” Of course he was busy with my other brother, Arron, playing who knows what with him. But he immediately averted his attention and said, “Will, what do you want!” in a hasty tone before ignoring me once again. But I was persistent, and said, “DUB! I’m bored, play with me now!” In all of J.W.’s haste, he dropped his stuff and began to play with me. In all of the time I was there, I was bored and lonely at the place, so what else was there to do? I went to the corner and lay on a pillow and closed my eyes and fell asleep. I guess it was a few minutes later before my grandmother woke me up from my peaceful slumber, claiming I needed to help clean up the mess everyone had made. I thought to myself, ‘Why did I have to clean up a mess I didn’t even make! I had done hardly anything during the visit. A few hugs and a couple minutes of napping. Sheesh, I didn’t deserve this.’ But reluctantly, I obeyed what was asked of me. As I started to pick up some of the trash, my grandmother started the vacuum cleaner and it scared me to near death. I jumped and began to cry. I know it sounds pathetic, but I started to run away from the atrocious mechanical device, towards my mother, who picked me up and kissed me on the cheek. I know it didn’t sound like much, but for the moment it comforted me, and she said,
“Its’ okay baby boy, I’m here to protect you.” She hugged me and brought me out side to my foster dad’s car, and it was time for the visit to be over. J.W. came out as well and got in the car. Soon after, I fell asleep in the care and awakened in the morning in my own bed.
* * *
I held my blanky close to me as I went into my foster brother’s room, where my real brother was, who was at that time preoccupied playing video games. As a child, who couldn’t and wouldn’t stand still, I gathered pillows, toys, and other things that I could use to build a fort for myself. I stacked it up just big enough for me to fit inside. I put a blanket over top to make the project to be complete. It was just big enough for me to fit inside it comfortably. As I was sitting inside it, enjoying what I accomplished, my brother took a pillow from the side and the fort crumbled. I quickly went to my brother, who was sitting on the pillow now, and tried to yank it out from under him.
“Give it back, Dubayou!” Tears were swelling in my eyes as a I kept on chanting the same phrase over and over, “Give it back, Dubayou!” till I gave up and went to the couch and began to cry. Then a queer thing happened. My foster dad came into the room and told me to shut up.
I said, “But, but, he took my pillow,”He snapped back at me, saying, “Shut up you little brat or you’ll get a spanking!” By now, I was pouting like crazy, as the crying increased, so did the anger, but do you know what that man did? He grabbed my arm and started to spank me, making me cry even more. “Are you going to stop crying now, you little baby?” The dad yelled at me. Of course I wasn’t going to stop, I just got spanked!
* * *
I hugged my white blanky tightly as I made my way towards the kitchen. The mom made a lot of spaghetti and put a lot on the plate. Too much for my little tummy to handle, so to quell their stares at me, I ate as much as I could, which wasn’t much to be exact. So the dad told me to go out to the hall, I obeyed as ordered.
“Why didn’t you eat all of the food we gave you?” He grabbed my blanky and asked me again, but in a more aggressive tone. “Again, WHY DIDN’T YOU EAT YOUR FOOD!” I was about to answer before he ripped my favorite blanket in half. I started to cry and sat down sobbing before he sent me to my room. I was throwing a tantrum, a bad one, since he locked the door. I put my torn up blanket to the door handle and cried, and attempted to pull the door open. My favorite blanket tore even more, which caused wails to come out of my mouth.
meh, good, bad?
