Freewrite #1

        Last summer, I was invited to go to my friends Dad’s house, in Crosslake. I had wanted to go there for a while now, so I said yes, and arranged all the details with my friend Sammy. I was to leave on a Thursday, the day before my sister when to college. It was Wednesday night; I sat up, waiting hours, for my sister to come home from spending the night with her friends. At about 3 in the morning, I gave up. I lazily walked up to my room and sat on my bed, thick tears with blobs of mascara, ran in pools down my face, “Was I really not going to be able to say goodbye?”
        The next morning at about 5, I woke up to that annoying beeping noise of my ihome, and went downstairs to eat a nice breakfast. After breakfast, I grabbed all my bags to go to Sammy’s Dad’s, and threw them into the sparkly gray mini van, and hopped in the car, sitting next to Cal, Sammy’s adorable little brother. Cal is one to always talk, but this time, he didn’t. He knew I wasn’t in the mood-it’s amazing how someone so young can tell when something is wrong, but people who are older often can’t. I sat the whole time thinking about my sister-Why did she have to leave me?!
        When I got to Crosslake, my cell phone started to ring, it was my sister, AnnaMarie, she told me that she was sorry she couldn’t say goodbye and she would see me again on Thanksgiving. I told her to stop talking because I was about to cry, and when she didn’t, I hung up.
        Here I was, a 16 year old girl, out in Crosslake with her best friend in the summer, and I was uncontrollably crying. I was supposed to be having the time of my life! I sat with my best friend and cried for about 3 straight hours. A week later, it was time for me to return home, I got in the car and drove for 3 hours. When I got home, I ran up to my room to put my things away and on my bed, was a huge wooden basket. I walked up to it, and looked inside, my sister had made me a fleece tie blanket, with the Yankee symbol all over it, and she had but other goodies in it. However, the best thing in the basket was a note; I opened it and read it. It was the nicest thing she had ever written me, or nonetheless said to me. It meant the world to me. I took it and put it on the inside of my rubber phone case, so that whenever I need her, I could just take it out and read it to myself. I learned from all of this that we all have to endure tough goodbyes but we must be strong and learn to take them as they come, because it’s life, and it is what it is.