Rebirth
A snake was in the garden. A dead snake, as
Mom would have never let a live one breathe for five seconds once it crossed her
path. Leathery skin lay like hay in a heap around its head. Leathery scales
peeled like skin trying to replenish after a sunburn. Dad stood there solemnly
staring at the carcass. The
scales, attempting to escape the deprave hopelessness of the severed neck,
drooped. The stubborn tongue, the only remnant of a complete individual, hung.
That snake was the life I had known. After all of the bloody carnage I had
witnessed I, the observer, contemplated how to pick up pieces of the snake and
change life for the better.
Oprah Winfrey in a commencement address to
Salem College said,” Your life begins to change when you decide to make
changes.” Many trapped in an inescapable rut. However, life improves and changes
if it is striven for. I was 10 years old. I, who had bloomed in a warm, sunny
household, thought that I had the perfect family. Unfortunately, things don’t
always turn out hopefully. In March, my parents told me the news. Divorce.
First, I radiated confidence. I was only three hours away from Dad, a small
distance. It was not impossible for a young girl to overcome. When I slithered
into Virginia Beach, the cool ocean breeze outweighed the gnawing doubts at the
back of my mind. I went to a new school. I went and compelled some new friends.
During the school year, my luck back flipped. The siren like spell of my novelty wore up. Those who recognized me stared with taunting eyes that felt as if they were peering through me, finding
my Achilles Heel; it rendered me unconfident. Why did they flee? Why were the
sailors failing to stop near the shores of my being? Why were they aiming at me
as if I was venomous snake? I was bullied. To this day, I still lack complete
knowledge on what went wrong. I had friends and then I had no one. I, gazing at
the white wall, grasping for straws, pondering about my parents’ divorce, my
year, was left gasping for air. At
the time, I thought it was depression. I realized that was just my fear. I had
an epiphany; it did not matter if it was my personality, or that I was rebelling
because my parents split, or even if I was just the receiver of common bullying.
None of it mattered, because I would change it. I would change my life. I would
regain my appeal, that spark that showed off my better half.
Life is what I make it to be, I am the director, and I am the decider of
where I go. I labored extensively to peel off my dead skin in order to be
reborn. I discovered the lungs of my life. Debate and theatre. I love being
whipped into a verbal frenzy by the prospect of a good argument. Debate is my
cupid’s arrow as it gives me unprecedented control and power over others
opinions, as theatre gives me power over the unconscious mind of the
watcher.
The snake is no longer holding on for dear breath before it dies. It is
gone, that part of life ended. However, all is well.
Because that snake died, the mice of the land can meet new mice. I met a
wonderful stepmother and stepsister who I would swear up and down are true
family to me. I have a stepfather and two stepbrothers as well. That snake died
with cause, and it was painful. But, this is just the beginning. That snake, and
me, will be reborn.
Mom would have never let a live one breathe for five seconds once it crossed her
path. Leathery skin lay like hay in a heap around its head. Leathery scales
peeled like skin trying to replenish after a sunburn. Dad stood there solemnly
staring at the carcass. The
scales, attempting to escape the deprave hopelessness of the severed neck,
drooped. The stubborn tongue, the only remnant of a complete individual, hung.
That snake was the life I had known. After all of the bloody carnage I had
witnessed I, the observer, contemplated how to pick up pieces of the snake and
change life for the better.
Oprah Winfrey in a commencement address to
Salem College said,” Your life begins to change when you decide to make
changes.” Many trapped in an inescapable rut. However, life improves and changes
if it is striven for. I was 10 years old. I, who had bloomed in a warm, sunny
household, thought that I had the perfect family. Unfortunately, things don’t
always turn out hopefully. In March, my parents told me the news. Divorce.
First, I radiated confidence. I was only three hours away from Dad, a small
distance. It was not impossible for a young girl to overcome. When I slithered
into Virginia Beach, the cool ocean breeze outweighed the gnawing doubts at the
back of my mind. I went to a new school. I went and compelled some new friends.
During the school year, my luck back flipped. The siren like spell of my novelty wore up. Those who recognized me stared with taunting eyes that felt as if they were peering through me, finding
my Achilles Heel; it rendered me unconfident. Why did they flee? Why were the
sailors failing to stop near the shores of my being? Why were they aiming at me
as if I was venomous snake? I was bullied. To this day, I still lack complete
knowledge on what went wrong. I had friends and then I had no one. I, gazing at
the white wall, grasping for straws, pondering about my parents’ divorce, my
year, was left gasping for air. At
the time, I thought it was depression. I realized that was just my fear. I had
an epiphany; it did not matter if it was my personality, or that I was rebelling
because my parents split, or even if I was just the receiver of common bullying.
None of it mattered, because I would change it. I would change my life. I would
regain my appeal, that spark that showed off my better half.
Life is what I make it to be, I am the director, and I am the decider of
where I go. I labored extensively to peel off my dead skin in order to be
reborn. I discovered the lungs of my life. Debate and theatre. I love being
whipped into a verbal frenzy by the prospect of a good argument. Debate is my
cupid’s arrow as it gives me unprecedented control and power over others
opinions, as theatre gives me power over the unconscious mind of the
watcher.
The snake is no longer holding on for dear breath before it dies. It is
gone, that part of life ended. However, all is well.
Because that snake died, the mice of the land can meet new mice. I met a
wonderful stepmother and stepsister who I would swear up and down are true
family to me. I have a stepfather and two stepbrothers as well. That snake died
with cause, and it was painful. But, this is just the beginning. That snake, and
me, will be reborn.