Where I Come From By Madison Spurgeon
I Came From
I come from the smell of steak and baked potato on a sunday night that filled my taste buds with football and family.
From the shot that rang out through the woods as the innocent animal lay on the ground and the high five that could be heard from miles away.
I come from the wind in my face and the smell of fresh dirt in my nostrils, as the roaring of the engine sprang through the air as we sped off on the dirt roads.
I come from the 100mph that ended my sister and took her boyfriend on the day of thanks. The week that I prayed to someone I never believed of.
I come from the cold early sleepless morning when santa came and I flourished in the gifts of togetherness.
I come from the taste of chocolate in between two graham cracker as my ears sing happily in the crackling of the fire under the night stars
I come from the hugs that filled my aching heart with love and suffering.The sound of my name leaving their small loving lips as they jumped in my arms
I come from the feeling of never having another child in the company of me and my mother as we lived our life, just the two of us
I come from the cane poles and the sound of splashing water as I reeled in a monster.The look of accomplishment hidden on my Mimi’s face as we devoured our dinner.
I come from the memory box hidden under my bed filled with the guilt I have suffered of not telling her goodbye.
I come from the restaurant I spend most of my days after school, trying to help my mother get by. It smells of Italy and fried food.