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School paper (1 Viewer)

R

rustic_vampire

I wrote this paper for a school project, and I'm really proud of the paper, but I want to know how I can give more of a, I dunno, I just wanna know if I should try to use more detail. I've tried to write a paper like it since, but I find myself trying to do better than I did on this one, but I have problems doing that. Well, tell me what you think, and tell me how I could rewrite it to make it better, please?

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"Imagine a little girl about five screaming for her life, screaming for help. Fighting against
her brother who is six years older then she is. Fighting for her life and losing. She’s crying,
screaming, and fighting back, but to her it seems as if no one’s going to help. Praying her brother
will stop before he kills her, as he hits her over and over again. He keeps hitting her back harder
and harder each time. All she knows is that she’s screaming, and feeling pain, nothing but pain.
Screaming for her mom and dad, screaming for him to stop, but knowing he won’t, she just
screams. Then to her relief her parents finely get him off of her, and she finds that she’s still alive
and breathing. Although her brother has stopped, she still screams, she can still feel him beating
her back, feel the pain still. She wants to be held, but she knows she can’t because it would make
her hurt even more because her back is still tender, and she doesn’t want to feel pain anymore.
One thing that is for sure though, she’ll never forget that night in her life, even ten years later
she’ll be able to feel the pain and how much force he put into it." I recall that night like it was last
week. Being beat by my brother in my parents room where they thought I was safe, but the lock
on their door failed once again.

I remember hiding, shaking, longing to be held by my parents, being afraid, afraid for my
life. Not knowing if you’ll make it through the night isn’t the best feeling in the world, as a matter
of fact, it’s one of the worst. Praying your parents are still strong enough to protect you from
your brother, praying he had a good day at school and didn’t get pissed off. Hoping he won’t
come after you as you sleep. Fear is all I felt when I was around him, my own brother I couldn’t
trust, couldn’t love.

Screaming, I remember screaming a lot, for my life, for someone to help me escape. I also
remember the pounding, him pounding his fists into my back, just hitting me over and over to
relive stress or even for fun, and I would always wonder "Why me?" Worried that he’ll go
completely mad and end up putting in the hospital or killing me, all because he had a bad day at
school. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t control his anger, it wasn’t his fault I came along, it
wasn’t his fault. At times I strongly felt it was my fault, my fault for being born, and it was my
parents fault for having me, but it wasn’t his fault. I know he realized what he was doing was
wrong, but he couldn’t control it because he’s mentally handicapped. I always felt I had played a
part in his anger because I was born and took his attention away.

After six years of having most of the attention, I came along and took it all way from him.
I took our mother’s attention away from him, not so much our father’s though, but defiantly away
from our mother. He hated me for that, and I know that, he hated that he had to compete for
attention from our mother.

Then it came, the day I was extremely happy about, the day my brother left to live in a
group home. He went to a group home because he was out of my parents control, and they were
having problems protecting me. Of course it was sad to see my brother leave, but at the same
time I was just the happiest girl ever. One way of looking at it I was as happy as a homeless child
would be when they got their first real Christmas.

After he left I remember it took me the longest time to sleep in my own room by myself. I
was still terrified that he would come back, even thought I knew he couldn’t because he was
hundreds of miles away, but I still thought he would come in the middle of the night and kill me.
He haunted my dreams, my mind, my thoughts, me, he haunted me. Often times I would wake up
in the middle of the night, and wake up my mom because I was afraid to sleep in my room by
myself. That first night I spent the entire night in my room by myself I remember that night like it
was yesterday, that night my sister put a ring of salt around my bed, she told me it would keep
everything bad away from me when I slept. Now that I look back on it, it’s kind of childish, but it helped me out a lot. If it wasn’t for my sister, I’m not sure how I would have made it through
that hell with my brother.

Looking back on all this today, I am grateful that happened in a way that it’s made me a
stronger person, but at the same time I wish it never did. No one, specially a child should ever
have to go through that, but the sad thing is, it happens everyday to kids around the world. I look
at my brother today and see someone different, but I also see someone I can’t trust, someone I
have problems loving, someone who hurt me in a way no one should ever be hurt. Now I bet
someone is asking, "If I could relive it differently, for example have a different brother, would I?"
My answer to that would be no. No because I would be someone completely different, and I like
who I am.

Now that I’m older I know more and I understand more about my brother. He has gotten
a lot better from the time he was younger, and he’s only had a couple out bursts since he moved
back in. There are times I wish I wasn’t his sister, but there are also times I’m glad I am because
I wouldn’t like someone else to live through what I had too. If it wasn’t for my brother, I don’t
think I would be as open or understanding as I am. Today I can look back on this and write about
the worst thing in my life that I had to over come. He has shown me so much about life, people,
and to always expect the unexpected. Out of all the people I know, I would have to say he has
improved the most because he isn’t a violent person anymore, at least not as violent, and he’s
always trying to get better. I am very proud to say I am his younger sister, and I am very proud
of him because of who he is today and how he has changed so much over the years. I might not
be able to trust him one hundred percent, but it’s growing more each day. Do I think I’ll ever be
able to trust him one hundred percent, no probably not, just because of what he put me through
when I was younger, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.

------------------------------
This is based on actual events that took place in my childhood.

Thanks

~Rustic~
 

Penelope

Senior Member
Hello there. First off, congratulations for having the courage to post this personal account. What I noticed, once I got past the layout which makes it difficult to read, is that I felt beginning at the hospital and working backwards from there might make it better reading. What we feel when we are being attacked is less intense than our memories mainly because of our body's self defense system. You may find it will engage a reader more accutely if their curiousity is raised. Just a thought.
 

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