Composition 1 Paper Help
Thank you for your excellent feedback. I returned to my first draft. I did change quite a bit, but I think it was for the better.
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I blankly stared out the window of my mother’s Grand Cherokee, wondering what I was doing. I had lived my entire life here. A lot of my best memories were here. In fact, all of my memories were here. Something somewhere had gone wrong and I wanted out. But in these last moments here, I was no longer certain whether or not if this was what I wanted.
About a week before, I had called my grandfather and asked him if I could come stay with him. He lived in Tennessee, hundreds of miles away. Perhaps I should have been more patient. Maybe I should have asked what it was like down there first. I had never met him before, and I had never been to Tennessee. I had no idea what I was in for. My mom was the one who gave me the idea. “If you hate living here so much, call your grandpa. He’ll take you.” She had said it many times before. I needed a way out, and this seemed like the best solution.
This was no longer home. Everyone and everything had shifted in a way that I could no longer stand. All of my friends had gradually drifted away. Each one going their own route, leaving me behind. Some had moved to another school district. Others had abandoned me for new friends. There were also those who I had just lost contact with. Family ties were becoming less and less tolerable. The movie theatres where I had worked had closed down, leaving me without money. And on top of it all, my girlfriend had left me just as school ended. No. This was no longer home.
I had spent the past couple months of summer in my room, only coming out to eat. I spent a lot of time on my couch. I would just lay there with the TV on, not really watching it. I would often replay past events in my head as if I were looking for where I had gone wrong. I turned completely inward. I lost interest in everything I used to enjoy doing. I was becoming less and less me. I had no control over anything. There was nothing I could to do. Nothing at all. So I did the only thing I could think of… Run away.
Once I had made the decision to leave, I convinced myself it was the only way out. School was about to start again, and I thought about what it would be like. I didn’t want to face any of them. What would I say? How would they respond? Would they be happy to see me? Would the even talk to me? I imagined the worst.
I didn’t share my mixed feelings with my mother. She wasn’t one to listen and often told me I was to blame. When I had decided to accept her Tennessee offer, she had seemed relieved, as if I was some kind of burden. We hadn’t gotten along the past few years, but I didn’t think it was that bad.
When we got to the bus station, my mom went in to buy my ticket. As she came back, I noticed her face was red. She opened the door and gave me a hug. She was crying. “I love you son.” I could barely make out the words. It was the first time I had heard them. It was hard for me to say them back, but I did. It was such an awkward moment, and it shouldn’t have been. She waited with me until I boarded. We waited in silence for about an hour. 25 hours later, I would be in Jackson, Tennessee.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by an old man wearing a button down shirt. Half of the buttons were undone, revealing his wrinkled chest. He towered over me at 6’7’’, and spoke with an accent I could barely understand. This was my grandpa.
The ride ‘home’ was very uncomfortable. My grandpa wouldn’t quit talking. Whenever I would say something, I would have to say it several times before he would hear me correctly. I decided to just stop talking. I also decided to stop listening.
My grandpa lived in a town with a population of about 100. It was a ten minute walk to the mailbox. The closest neighbor was about a 20 minute walk. They were my grandpa’s brother and his wife. It soon became apparent that everyone in this small town was in one way or another related to me.
When school finally started, I found that I had a hard time connecting with the people I had only known for a short while. I was more alone here than I was back home. The only positive I had found was writing to my ex-girlfriend back home. She had told me things weren’t the same without me there. I guess staying wouldn’t have been so bad. I should have stayed. I messed up again.
I decided I wanted to go back home. I called my mom. I explained to her everything. After listening to me and my plea to come back home, she said no. I felt like I had been tricked into moving from home. It was my choice, but she knew once I was gone there would be no way for me to come back. That was something I hadn’t thought about. All I could think about then was getting away. Now all I could think about was going back. I had replaced temporary problems with a permanent one.
Last edited by 00153719 : 09-14-2007 at 03:04 AM.
Reason: New draft!
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