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I had to write this for my college prep class
January 2007 
Hopes and Promises
Posted on Jan 12th, 2007
by 
queenbee
queenbee
Imagine a little girl only five years old standing on top of a hill waiting for her mommy to come home. It’s almost dinnertime and she’s not back yet. The little girl hears the phone ring in the house behind her, she suns to answer it.
“Yes this is Jodi’s brother (pause) Is it serious? (pause) Ok, we’ll be right there.”
Her uncle picks her up and rushes out to the car. She has no idea where they are going but she knows that it must be bad because her uncle is crying in the front seat. When was the last time that she had seen him cry…oh yeah, never.
When the car finally comes to a stop and her uncle turns it off he puts his head down onto the steering wheel. Slowly he lifts it up and looks at the little girl in the backseat, reflected in the mirror, questions written in her eyes.
“No matter what anybody says to you, Mommy is going to be ok.”
All the little girl can see out of the window are flashing lights and people run from place to place, they don’t walk. The lights hypnotize her like a carnival ride, the people remind her of rabbits cause they are moving so fast. She doesn’t know where she is but she knows that whatever has caused them to come to this place cannot be anything good. This something inevitably changes her life, and not for the better.
Imagine that little girl, imagine her on top of that hill. Imagine that that little girl is me, crying when she sees her mommy lying on the moving bed, unable to lift her head because her neck is really hurt. Imagine a beautiful spring afternoon turned gray and lost of all hope and promises.
“Yes this is Jodi’s brother (pause) Is it serious? (pause) Ok, we’ll be right there.”
Her uncle picks her up and rushes out to the car. She has no idea where they are going but she knows that it must be bad because her uncle is crying in the front seat. When was the last time that she had seen him cry…oh yeah, never.
When the car finally comes to a stop and her uncle turns it off he puts his head down onto the steering wheel. Slowly he lifts it up and looks at the little girl in the backseat, reflected in the mirror, questions written in her eyes.
“No matter what anybody says to you, Mommy is going to be ok.”
All the little girl can see out of the window are flashing lights and people run from place to place, they don’t walk. The lights hypnotize her like a carnival ride, the people remind her of rabbits cause they are moving so fast. She doesn’t know where she is but she knows that whatever has caused them to come to this place cannot be anything good. This something inevitably changes her life, and not for the better.
Imagine that little girl, imagine her on top of that hill. Imagine that that little girl is me, crying when she sees her mommy lying on the moving bed, unable to lift her head because her neck is really hurt. Imagine a beautiful spring afternoon turned gray and lost of all hope and promises.
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