• From Birth to Death


    It was strange from when I was born at zero years old. I was in a nice warm place, maybe in my mommy! But I really don't know. But soon I couldn't breath, and I thrashed about, looking for air. I soon fell asleep from exhaustion. When I woke up, I saw a light....... too much light! I cried with all my might and the light dimmed so low, I couldn't see it any more. Actually, I couldn't see anything at all, and I knew the light wasn't at fault. I relaxed and I realized I was a day old (or so I thought). I wondered where I was. I wasn't in my nice warm place which I was missing essentially. I was cold, and I didn't like it. I screamed with dislike. Soon a pair of warm arms hugged me close and I felt better. The warm arms shushed me quietly, as to calm me down.
    "I think the lights are bothering the baby" someone said
    "I don't think so" the warm arms said " But I do know that my baby will be the most special kid in the world. Even if our angel was born prematurely"
    I knew from that instant that the warm arms were my mommy. I fell asleep in her arms in total warmth and comfort. From that day forward, I never saw that hideous, bright light, or anything ever again. I'm now three years old and barely able to speak or walk. I could only speak a couple of words at a time and walk for about ten steps. My mommy would also speak in hushed tones about me to my Daddy. She thought I didn't hear or understand, but I did. She worried that I was going to be the retarded kid of the family. I didn't know what retard meant, but it sounded like a nice thing. Mommy was probably about five steps away, so I got up and walk to the sound of her sniffling voice. I tugged on her pant leg. I heard Mommy and Daddy gasp. I looked up at both of them.
    "I want to be retard" I said happily smiling.
    But Mommy and Daddy weren't paying attention.
    "Did you see our angel?" Mommy asked
    "Was she at the other side of the room?" Daddy countered
    "I think she was" Mommy answered
    I'm a she? I thought I thought I was a he-she!
    "Our angel has matured!" Mommy and Daddy exclaimed at the same time.
    Mommy or Daddy picked me up and they both hugged me and I felt the warmth of their bodies on me. I hugged them both back, happy to be appreciated. When I became of age, I went to ,"Pre-K", as my parents called it. I became a better walker but I kept stumbling about and hitting things. I needed a cane in order to walk properly in my new surroundings. Though, I liked to chew on my cane rather than use it to walk. It tasted like vanilla ice-cream at times. It also tasted like roast beef one time. I actually tore some of it off. It was really good. Mommy and Daddy eventually took it away from me and gave me some sort of candy that melted in my mouth. I really didn't want it. So I listened for my Mommy and walked toward the sound of her voice. When I caught up to her, I got her attention.
    "Finish your snack, angel," Mommy said "dinner isn't ready yet"
    "I want my cane" I said
    "NO!" I yelled "Your going to make the roast beef all soggy! Then I can't eat it anymore. I want to finish my roast beef before the taste disappears."
    "Angel," Mommy said tenderly "what about Daddy and me? You took the roast beef we were going to have when you bumped into the table. Can't we eat too?"
    I thought about it for a little bit then nodded. Mommy walked away with my roast beef cane and I heard her and Daddy divide my cane up. Mommy came back and gave me a new cane. It smelled like flowers. In addition to my bumping into everything, I liked to pick up random things and taste it. One time I picked up some hard thing that was in a box with other hard things. I was sure that it was candy and ate it. But I had a hard time swallowing it. Once I got it down, my throat started to hurt and I cried. Mommy came rushing to me as I knocked down all the "hard to swallow" candy. Mommy then came and started to call somebody named Steve. Instead of Steve, my Daddy came. Mommy started to talk frantically. The only words I heard were," Poor angel! She swallowed an two inch wooden screw",and heard something called a ,"hospital". I don't remember much of what happened. I only remember Mommy and Daddy rushing around. I fell asleep in Mommy's rushing movements. All that crying had worn me out.
    By the time I was in first grade, I was a professional at walking.Yep, I didn't need my cane anymore. I learned to walk with out it like a normal person.It was like it was natural for me to know when to walk around objects or were a seat was. However, I wasn't the kind of kid who spoke aloud. My sort of talking was through writing. Yep, I learned how to write even before I got into the first grade. Mommy and Daddy were really proud of me and declared that the doctors were too stupid and naive to think I had learning disabilities. All through elementary school, I needed books that were called braille. The books sounded very yummy and I wanted some for lunch. Unfortunately, whenever I asked for braille for any meal of the day, I was told to stop killing them. Whoever I asked was always laughing and I didn't get what was so funny.... or how I was killing them. I also got a nickname from everyone. I never really had a name. My parents (and everyone else) always called me angel. I mean, angel isn't even a name! It's just a spirit that watches over you and brings you to um, what was his name again? Oh well, I call him the Great Ordeal Duke (G.O.D for short). Anyways, my nick name is Sharp Hearer. I like the name a lot because it's true! My hearing is so sharp, I could probably cut the whole world in half!
    Alas, as I came into my high school years, something unfortunate happened to me. It happened my junior year at a school, who's name I don't remember. I was out and about, in the back of my house just writing. I was writing a love story about a boy who fell in love with a girl he disliked. He was trying to kill her too. I was at the end of the story when the boy kills the girl with a gun. As he looks upon her cold dead face, he realizes that he loved her. The boy ends up killing himself over his lost love,who... well I never did finish the story because...um,well... I was killed by a robber. I now am a ghost who just told you her whole life as she remembers it. I know I left out a lot of details but I can't seem to remember much! Jeez, people from the 1960's didn't complain as much as people of the twenty first century!