The sun shines again


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1. As human, as stick

My home town, Cold Spring, was a town that was perfectly located in upstate New York. This little town wasn't as popular as Albany or Adams, but it didn't need to be. People in our town were filled with generosity and hope. There was part of the town where houses were close to each other. I didn't live in that part of the town; I lived in the part where most yards were surrounded by trees. Where the trees allowed the perfect amount of sunlight, and the perfect amount of wind. During the fall, the leaves on the trees would change from the bright, happy-filled green, to a fire orange-red colour. I lived in a dull-red coloured house with my dad and my younger sister. We didn't live in the common two story house. We had a home some double-wide with another addition built onto the side. The yard that our house is forever stuck on, is a bright green, almost as though it is painted neon.

My mom no longer lived with us, because she is no longer with us. She died when I was nine years of age, when my sister was two. I am now fourteen and now understand her death better, like what caused it. What she had, there was no cure for it. Before she was alive, and even now, they are trying to find a cure for this deadly sickness that lurks within some of us- cancer. My mom's cancer started when she was twenty-three years of age; well at least when it was discovered. I still remember all of the doctor appointments she had due to this. I remember -when I was much younger- my dad stayed home with me because my mom was in the hospital and I couldn't be home alone, and I was not allowed in the room with my mom. My dad got a phone call from my mother, and when he saw it, he seemed happy, until he started talking with mom and then he burst out into tears. At the time I had no clue what was going on. When I asked 'what was wrong with mommy' he just replied with: Mommy is really sick, so she needs to stay with the doctors a little bit longer. As I grew older, I began to understand what my mom had; my little sister knows too. My dad doesn't like to keep secrets from any of us, so he told her 'mommy had cancer' and 'her time was up'. I remember when my mom died, many people came to the house and told us good things the enjoyed of our mother, and that they felt bad. Then it was hard to fight the tears back, knowing she was dead. But now, to this day, it is easy to hold back the tears.

 

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I sat on the bottom of the front steps to our house; I held a stick with my hands, keeping it still as if though time was frozen. The stick I held was freshly peeled of the hard bark shell that hid the soft and light bark underneath. What made it blend in with the tree it was on when it was attached to it. This reminded me of other people outside of my town. People would wear the same style, pretend they acted the same, and they hid the real them. They hid what made them unique, what made them stand out from the rest. The only thing that made them stand out was the way they acted towards the ones they hated, or the ones they loved. They acted tuff on the outside, tried to look the strongest, trying to reach the highest point there is. But on the inside they strive to be unique, they hunger for looking down to see how far they got. This town, Cold Spring, was not like that; we all strived to be ourselves. Each of us stood out from the 'crowd'. Most  of us were friendly towards each other, and a lot of us, were friends. Each of us was the soft and unique branch, with our pride and hope wrapping us up like a blanket, we grew stronger, together. We did not reach as high as we could and then look down to see how far we were from the others; we reached as high as we could and then looked down to see how far we got, together.

 

 

 

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                                                    (I don't own the picture!)

 

 

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Hey guys! sorry for the really short chapters, and the bad grammar! But thanks for reading what I have written so far!

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