The Unexpected | Teen Ink

The Unexpected

May 21, 2013
By Tawko BRONZE, Austin, Texas
Tawko BRONZE, Austin, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
F.T.W


It was 4 a.m. when my mom woke me up and gave me the news. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. My whole world turned upside down. The night before was just like any other ordinary night, everything was perfectly fine.So when I heard, it just caught me so off gaurd.


She told me, “Mike, please sit up. I have something to tell you.” I had a puzzled look on my face wondering why my mom would wake me up at 4 in the morning. I knew it wasn’t going to be good but I never expected this. I remember her exact, brief words, ”Mike your Tia Gracie just passed away.”
When I heard those words, I felt a dagger pierce my heart. My body dropped I went completely numb. My eyes turned blood red from the tears I tried so hard to keep in. Five seconds later my tears started constantly dropping down, thousands of tears filled my pillow that night. I was in complete shock; I did not see this coming. I had just spoken with her the other day; she sounded fine. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t grip that she was gone. “No, No, No this can’t be right.” I never thought that was going to be my last time talking to her. “Its just not real! This can’t be true, its just a dream!” I kept telling myself over and over its not real.


I had to get ready to go to San Antonio where my family is and my aunt lived. I couldn’t get the idea through my head that I would never see my aunt again. I could see her in my head just standing there. With a beer in her hand, her short brown shining hair, covered by a hat one of her girls got her and her brown almond shaped eyes telling me how popular she was at the bar. She was always there for me no matter what, where, when it was. When I had a problem I would always call her to help me, she never told me she couldn’t. Even if she really couldn’t, she’d call around the world until she found someone who could. She would help anyone that went to her with a problem. She was the sweetest person anyone would ever meet. People loved her and they loved her presence. Anywhere she went her smile would brighten up the day. Her house was practically a motel if anyone ever needed a place to stay, she would open up her doors to them. Now all I have are all these memoirs of her to remember.


As I continued to pack, my eyes couldn’t stop tearing. I was no longer crying just tearing. My heart was hurting so bad like I was being stabbed repeatedly. In my head I couldn’t stop playing all the great moments i had with my aunt. I walked outside to put my luggage in the car. It smelled like wet dog from the rain as I saw a bolt of lightning, a big BOOM came after it from the thunder. It was a stormy day outside. It was so dark it looked like it was still night time but it was morning already. As we were getting ready to leave the house I wasn’t ready to get in the car. Getting in the car meant heading to San Antonio and facing reality. It meant going to go say my last goodbye to my aunt. But she wouldn’t be awake for it, no she would be sleeping peacefully in a wood box. I wasn’t ready for that- I still couldn’t believe that I wasn’t going to see her anymore. As I thought and thought about it I finally realized that she is in a better place now. She is in heaven not suffering anymore not having to worry about anything and looking over us. I finally got in the car ready to face reality. Ready to say my final goodbyes to my aunt.


Losing my aunt was something I never saw coming. Enjoy every moment you have with your loved ones. You never know when your last time with them will be.


The author's comments:
There has to be a reason for me to write or else I see no point. I have the tendency to be super duper lazy and more distracted than a puppy fighting a butterfly. So sitting down and writing about something simple is just too hard for me. I don’t talk a whole page of words I answer people just like a text message. Yes, no, bye. “Why?” you would ask. The answer: because I don’t care what people say to me, think about me, or the way they look at me. So writing for others has no meaning for me. Punctuating, capitalizing, and grammar is all just so I can graduate. Writing for me consists of only writing lyrics and writing my phone number for pretty girls.

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