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My first memory is of the saddest day of my life, although I didn't know it at the time.

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My first memory is of the saddest day of my life, although I didn't know it at the time. I was four years old and sat in my living room with the sweets my Dad had given me that day. The television was blaring and I was half watching Sesame Street and half watching my parents rushing around the house and putting things into suitcases. Everything was quiet except for the sound of Big Bird reciting the alphabet when my Father came into the room and sat by my side. He had a present for me. It was a toy shopping trolley full of plastic food and a microwave to "cook" it in. I loved the present but at that point in time the television meant more to me than anything else. I said thanks and turned back to the screen. I didn't realize it but it was the last time I would ever see my Father. He kissed me and turned to leave, he paused by door and said goodbye his voice sounding weak and powerless unlike the deep and strong voice he usually possessed. He left that day. I can still picture his car rolling out of the drive and my Mother burying her face in her hands. He was headed across the pond to America, to work in the American Air Force. He was an aviation mechanic and always had been. ...read more.


By this point I was panicking and thinking of all the things that could have happened but of all the nightmares I envisioned, nothing came close to the news I was about to receive. She didn't pussyfoot around, she got straight to it. "It's about your Dad," she paused to take a deep breath "He passed away last night" I felt as though someone had ripped out my heart and sat on it. I didn't speak. "He had cancer." From then onwards my entire attitude changed. The loud and confident girl that I had been vanished and I became a shy and quiet girl who kept myself to myself. We moved out of the house we had been living in for seven years supposedly because my mother felt she needed a change but we all knew it was because of the painful memories that house held for us all. We didn't move far but it was far enough. I stopped visiting my old neighborhood as I didn't have any friends there and it hurt to see the places where I grew up. All of the memories, good and bad just didn't feel a part of me anymore. But one day when we were driving home from a weekend out of town and my mum stopped the car to get some milk. ...read more.


They'll never fade, so now whenever I see her I am reminded of the day in which my best friend was very nearly killed right in front of my eyes. Not all my memories are bad though; I've got a lot of happy ones. I've loved horses all my life and had my first lesson when I was seven. I was happy learning at riding school but I always dreamed of having a pony of my own. When I was twelve, that dream came true. Megan was delivered on October 1st 2000. It was one of the happiest moments in my life. I went to my first show when I was thirteen and I came home with three rosettes I was ecstatic. Especially when I beat the most well-known and respected rider in Lowestoft - Francesca Kirk-Pickering. I was so proud. Other great memories include; my aunties wedding when I was nine, the family holiday to Greece when I was eleven and my thirteenth birthday party. All of these are times I will never forget. These are all things that have shaped my attitude over the years and the way I treat others. Although the sad memories have hurt me in the past and had left me with permanent mental scars, I wouldn't change a thing as all my experiences, good or bad have made me what I am today. Sophie Lakes GCSE coursework - English - Autobiography Wednesday, October 16, 2002 ...read more.

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