I didn’t know what was happening. The man grabbed my wrist and with all his strength. He made it feel like I was something his life depended on. I kept kicking and punching with my free fist and legs, in hope the man would let go. I kept trying and trying but the man wouldn’t even budge. As he opened a heavy metal looking door, as he put a face mask on, a strong chemical-like smell came from the dark chamber. Thousands of deafening human voices were screaming. The smell that crept from the chamber was like no other. It smelled as if millions of different chemicals had collided with one another and forced your body to shut down. As the man threw me into the chamber, a light had quickly rushed across the wall when the man shut the door. All I saw with the small amount of light passing through, were humans trying to climb their way out, and dead bodies scattered everywhere. Hands started to touch me all over. The smell was penetrating my nostrils and made me tell myself that I would soon become one with the dead. I couldn’t stand the atmosphere any longer. My body dropped to the ground without knowing. I started gasping for air while lying on a floor made of dead bodies. All that went through my mind was “Get out! Get out!” but that was impossible. I crawled on my hands and knees while searching every wall and corner for some sign of freedom, but still nothing. My body was in pain. My hands were sweaty and shaking uncontrollably, the world went black…
Grandma’s home on Sunday afternoons, smelling the freshly baked cookies, right from the oven…my family and I at the door receiving the kiss on the cheek from Grandma, that left a print of her rosy red lipstick on our cheeks. Grandma would always make us dinner, and made sure that we were full when we left her home. Each night at dinner, I would look at the photos she had scattered all over the dining room wall. The pictures were of my grandpa who passed. The funny stories about grandpa put an everlasting smile on our faces. Grandma’s personality, safety and love, and of course her famous cookies, were the happiest elements of going to her home. But it was more than just the cookies, it was spending quality time with somebody that I loved dearly and would never leave her side no matter what happens.
I wasn’t sure of what was going on or why it was happening to me. I was supposed to come home tonight but that wasn’t a choice anymore. I bowed my head and squeezed it as hard as I could in hope this was all just a dream. I used all the strength left in me to make one final attempt to reach above the black wall. I now hoped for death. I could feel my heart beating slower and slower by the second. I attempted to take a deep breath, dragged my hand down the wall and curled on top of unknown human bodies and said to myself “This is it" I said, “I’m done.”
Grandma’s home on Sunday afternoons, smelling the freshly baked cookies, right from the oven…my family and I at the door receiving the kiss on the cheek from Grandma, that left a print of her rosy red lipstick on our cheeks. Grandma would always make us dinner, and made sure that we were full when we left her home. Each night at dinner, I would look at the photos she had scattered all over the dining room wall. The pictures were of my grandpa who passed. The funny stories about grandpa put an everlasting smile on our faces. Grandma’s personality, safety and love, and of course her famous cookies, were the happiest elements of going to her home. But it was more than just the cookies, it was spending quality time with somebody that I loved dearly and would never leave her side no matter what happens.
I wasn’t sure of what was going on or why it was happening to me. I was supposed to come home tonight but that wasn’t a choice anymore. I bowed my head and squeezed it as hard as I could in hope this was all just a dream. I used all the strength left in me to make one final attempt to reach above the black wall. I now hoped for death. I could feel my heart beating slower and slower by the second. I attempted to take a deep breath, dragged my hand down the wall and curled on top of unknown human bodies and said to myself “This is it" I said, “I’m done.”
- Molly Yacavoni's blog
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Dunkin Girl
Oct 25, 2016
This is so powerful it almost made me cry. I definitely felt like I was in this story and could see what was happening. It was also really moving when you switched the perspectives, and described a warm and fuzzy memory. The conclusion paragraph left a cold feeling. Great passage.