Tyler Paul

This is a paper I am writing for my English 1010 class. I was asked to write about a personal story in my life that has affected me to this day. The paper is only supposed to be about three pages long, that’s why some of the extra details are missing. But can someone proof read this for me. Tell me where i should add or omit details and phrased. Grammer check me as well. Just give it a nice, clean once over. And don’t be shy about telling me about my strenths so I don’t feel too bad about myself. (It’ll take about 5 minutes to read and i really greatly appreciate the help that anyone can offer me.) Thank you…

Stronger Than I Knew

Looking back on my life now, if I were asked to describe all my experiences in one sentence, I would describe it as a blessed life full of trials and tribulations. However, if I was asked that same question about seven years ago, I would have had a much different answer. It took years for me to realize that what happened this one August day would affect my outlook on life from that moment until today.

A terrific summer had just ended, but I was excited for what the fall held for me. In two weeks I would begin my freshman year in high school. I had just made the Lady Ram volleyball team; I had lots of good friends, a new boyfriend and all the additional perks that come with being the youngest child in a family. Life was good. In fact, my life had always been good. Very few road bumps in my path. Taking away the few moves that I made with my family growing up, we were a very typical, middle class, christian family. My father always had a job and my mother never had to have one. I could never imagine that there could be an unforeseen circumstance that would be able to change the perfect cycle we had together. But I was wrong.

It was August 16th, 2002. I had just finished my two mile volleyball warm-up run under the warm summer sun and I was taking serves in the gym.

“This ones coming to you, Shanae.” My best friend Megan called out to me from the other side of the net. The ball red and white striped came at me; I bent my knees, the ball connected with my wrists and I sent it soaring in the wrong direction. I chased down the spherical contender and turned around to attempt serving it once again. Before I could toss the ball in the air I saw my older sister, Michelle, tearing into the gym. She was trying to say something to me, but I couldn’t make out a word between her sobs.

“Kasia… car wreck… have to go…” Was all I could make out before her petite hands tugged me by my arms in a gesture to follow her. I grabbed my street shoes and, terror-stricken, I sprinted after my sister, leaving a suddenly dead silent gym behind us.

We didn’t stop running until we reached my sisters white Suzuki Samaria with the engine still running in the parking lot. She punched on the clutch and floored the accelerator. Not bothering to slow down at the stop sign.

“What’s going on?” I could feel my face flush as confused tears rose in my eyes.

“Kasia was in a car wreck in Sigurd. She was thrown out of her car, and they life-flighted her to Salt Lake.”

“Is she okay? She’s not dead right?” I felt my face mirror my sisters.

“We don’t know, Shanae. We don’t know.”

When we pulled up to our pale brick house, I was convinced that my parents would tell me that this was all a big misunderstanding. That my sister, who was gone at college, had just been in a fender bender and everything was okay. I was very wrong. Entering my usually warm and welcoming home, I was instead greeted with tension and high emotions. My dad was on the phone yelling at the hospital that “he had a right to know if his daughter is alive or dead. We live three hours away from the hospital for hell’s sake.” When he clicked off the phone I witnessed something that I had never before seen. My strong and emotionally controlled father grabbed his head and started to cry.

The three hour drive to the hospital is all a blur. Our neighbor drove us up to Salt Lake in her lavendar tinted mini-van, my dad kept reminding us that death couldn’t break up our family and my usually unaffectionate sister would occassionally reach back to reassuringly stroke my leg or squeeze my hand.

Arriving at the hospital only confirmed our deepest fears. Kasia was in the top floor, the Trauma Unit. Entering the unit was an unpleasant sensation to the eyes, ears and nose. Everything was white: the doctors gowns, the paint on the walls, and the scared faces of family members praying for their loved ones. The only noises noticable above sniffling noses and whispers was the costant beeping coming bed side monitors. The smell was the worst though. It was the smell of anti-bacterial soup and blood.

Kasia had been ejected from her car and thrown sixty feet. Standing by her bed side staring at her, she appeared more peaceful than I’d ever seen her, she looked serene. No gashes or b

That my sister, who was gone at college
I grabbed my street shoes and, terror-stricken (this sounds better to me….Terror-stricken I grabbed my street shoes and, etc)
You are a writer! Start your first book NOW! Good Job.