Family Story Part 1

This post is the start of a new project in English. We are starting a project in which we tell a family story. My story is based on the time when my house was broken into. I can elaborate a lot on this story and hopefully it will help to increase my appreciation for preserving my family memories.

It was a typical Friday night. We had gone out to dinner as usual because my mom had some work to finish up at school. The food court always sufficed our appetites, I ordered raamen with a side of gyoza. We ate our meals quietly and quickly as it was already six o'clock. Everyone was weary from the long day and were anxious to go home where we could finally relax for the weekend. However, this particular weekend, I had a huge science project, a presentation to be exact, I still needed to complete. My mom was feeling generous enough to delay her relaxation time to stop by Ben Franklin's with me to buy some extra supplies I needed to finish my science poster. Once I had found what I was looking for, we finally proceeded home. The roads were slightly damp that night, and there was a certain weariness to the atmosphere around me. We drove past the upcoming Walmart site, drove past the local library and finally the recreation center. We arrived home at around seven thirty and drove the car up to the worn-down driveway.

I walked up the steps of the dirt-red porch with a sigh of relief. My grandma rummaged in her bag to reveal a bronze set of keys. When she attempted to place the key into the keyhole, she found the door was unlocked. My mother took over and slowly and cautiously turned the knob.

Everything looked normal. My mother walked slowly to her bedroom where she found her jewelry all over the bed. Meanwhile, my grandmother creeped her way to the bathroom and was startled at the sight. The window looked as if it had been forced open: the screen was broken and the panel was nudged off. The curtains swayed ominously as the wind blew through the empty hole like a forbidden ghost. My grandma called my mother so she could see this disturbing sight as well. She fumbled for the phone and called the police.

I was in shock, standing by the door so no one would be able to harm me. If the burglar was still inside, I was prepared to make a run for the deserted streets. My fear was absolute. I could not move for fear of a blade being close to my throat. Only then did I realize the power of my imagination and came out of my spasm to hear sirens and see the familiar blue lights pulling up to my driveway.

They had stolen my mother's three most precious things and also stole the memories behind them. This incident really made me think of how lucky we all were and that nobody was hurt much less in the house at the time of the break-in. It could have been a lot worse.