Is my story a good one?
I am 11 and I wrote a sad story on my computer. Some parts happened in my life but some are fake. Please tell me if it is a good story. Dont steal please
By: Kaley Armstrong
I woke up at 1:23 in the morning when my father said, “ Me and your mother are going out to celebrate. Joe will be here to watch you, okay honey?” My father just found out that he was officially a firefighter. “ Ok. When will you be home?” I ask tiredly. “ We will be home at 3.” He said as he walked out of my room closing the door behind him.
Next thing I knew it was 10:00 A.M. I walked out of my room and into the kitchen. I looked out of the brown window seeing no sign of Mom and dad home yet, but there is 4 other cars including a police officer and my brother. I run outside, “What is going on and where is momma and daddy!” I say running down our porch and down the sidewalk to where my brother is. “Everything is fine. Go back inside and I will talk to you about it later.” He says with a tear rolling down his cheek turning, so I won’t see. “ Talk to me about what?” I ask starting to freak out, “ WHAT IS GOING ON!!!!??!?!?!?” I say screaming for no reason. “ Mom and dad got in a terrible accident. They were on there way to the hospital but…. They… They didn’t make it.” He says with a crackly voice with now 5 tears rolling down his cheek. I run inside as fast as I can go without looking back. I trip going inside of the house. I open my bedroom door and start bawling on my floor without noticing my brother is right next to me with his arms wrapped around me saying, “ Its ok. Just let it all out.”
The next day I wake up with tears still rolling down my cheek. I get out of bed and go straight to the photo album. I sit on the floor with my back leaning against the hard side of my bed. My hands shake as I look at photos of my mother and father. My brother opens the door and says, “ I thought I heard you get up. I would start packing up your stuff sis. We have to go to a foster home and we have to take all of our stuff.” “Will we be in the same foster home.” I ask with a tear going down my cheek. If we aren’t I am not leaving. I thought to myself as he shook his head no. “Ok. I will start packing.” I say as I go out of my room and grab a box and start packing. While I am packing I think of all of the fun things me and my family used to do. On Friday nights we would have game night. Then on Saturday we would all sit down on the coach with popcorn and watch our favorite movies. Then I think when ever I got straight A’s we would go out to dinner and celebrate. Just like they had to celebrate about my father being a firefighter. At only age 7 I went to a foster home.
My brother is 7 years older then me so he is 14. I walk into my brothers empty room with him sitting in the middle with a couple of tears on his face. “ I am done packing Joe.” I say walking over to him. “What will happen to us, Joe” I ask having no idea of whats happening to all of our things. “ Our house will be sold with the furniture. But our stuff will come with us when we go to the foster home.” He says adding more information to my head. He stands up, calls the foster home, and a couple minutes later a van pulls into our driveway. I go in my room when my brother goes out there and talks to them. I go and sit on my empty floor. I sit there thinking about the future. What if we get split up, is it even possible? My brother comes in my room stopping my thoughts as he takes my boxes. I follow him out of my room caring one box that he didn’t see. He goes out the front door and puts the boxes in the back of the van. I put the box I was holding in there next to his he already got. “ Get in the van sis. And say goodbye to the house.” He says getting into the van. I walk up to our house and look at the flowers mom planted 2 years ago. I pick one of the flowers and put it behind my ear. I walk back to the van, got in, and drive away with the flower still tucked behind my ear, the only thing I will remember about our house.
An hour later we pull into a house that I have never heard of. We get out of the van and go to the back and pull out our boxes and go inside of the house following our new “mom”. My new “mom” was wearing a long dark blue skirt with a white blouse on. She has brown straight hair and a face that says Hi with a big smile. And if I was wearing her shoes I would have broken my ankle a thousand times already. She leads us up stairs to a room and says “ That bed is yours” She says staring at me and pointing to the left wall with a bed with no sheets. She hands me clean sheets and says to my brother this time handing him his sheets and pointing to the other bed with no sheets, “ And that one is yours.” I walk over to my bed and put my boxes down in front of it. I take the sheets and start making my bed. When I am done I sit down and start crying. “ I wish mom and dad were here. I hate my life. I just hate it!” I say crying almost choking on my tears