Advanced Composition: A Narrative Essay- Stephanie Sandra's Eighth Birthday Catastrophe

Stephanie Sandra’s Eighth Birthday Catastrophe

Birthdays were one of the best things about being a child.  A joyful and exciting day where the attention centralizes on you and your coming of age.  You are still young but growing one year older. It's a celebratory day and moment!  As someone turning eight and feeling like a queenie beanie, I had the whole day planned out.  It was the most ideal eighth birthday. I would go swimming, make the best ice cream sundae to demolish in seconds, spend the day with my family, open gifts, and eat a fondue dinner and dessert at my favorite restaurant: The Melting Pot.  Life was at its sweetest moment on Thursday, August 12th, and nothing was going to change the outcome of the 13th.  I could barely sleep because of how excited I was that I was turning eight whole digits.  After all, that was one whole hand and three fingers on the other hand. Being a quirky child, I had the alarm noise of “Your phone is ringing. Bum Bum. Ringing. Bum. Ringing!” to wake myself up every morning.  I have never been more annoyed with a ringtone to this day, but it really was one of my favorite things to wake up to in the morning because of its happy, but very aggravating energy.  It was my birthday today! Being the “class act” that I was, I angelically sang myself happy birthday as I danced and twirled my way over to my calendar to cross out August 13th with a fresh-inked permanent black Sharpie.  The gratification that I felt as I crossed off August 13th on my puppy- themed calendar was at its finest.  I made my way downstairs to be greeted by the presence of my parents, siblings, grandparents, and cousins and the delicious aroma of raspberry vanilla French toast.  The sweet aroma of the kitchen was wonderful. Every whiff of raspberry French toast made me feel happier about my exhilarating, celebratory day. I was eight! Well-almost.  I would not be eight until 7:53 p.m. that day.  Because I was born in Australia, a country that is 16 hours ahead in time, I was technically already eight years young. I heard chitter chatter from all my family members on my way down to the kitchen from my bedroom. My triplet cousins were busily engaged in an intense Mario Kart Nintendo DS race.  I did not care. I was so grateful for the people that were there to celebrate with me.  I sensed that it would be a wonderful day!  I would be surrounded by all the important people in my life, and I would soon be eating gooey and melty cheese fondue for dinner!

As exciting as my birthday started out that day, I can honestly say that I do not remember what happened until about lunchtime.  This is where the story starts to get interesting.  My sister, Caroline, decided to steal my thunder at my pool party by complaining of sharp pains in her abdomen.  What I did not realize was that she had been experiencing these pains for about a week and a half.  However, because of my sister being a hypochondriac, my parents thought that she was overexaggerating her pain.  She seemed more distant on my birthday, making my parents start to sense something could be really wrong.  Normally, she was jovial and upbeat, but this day was different. Her face was a pale pink, and she embodied all the characteristics of a sick individual.  Her dark-colored hazel eyes looked lighter, but not in a good way.  Caroline also barely touched my succulent birthday breakfast, which was also her favorite.  She tried not to complain as she knew that this day was so important to me.  Caroline did not want to upstage me on my special day, but unfortunately, she did.  I was not there when my mom and dad knew she wasn't exaggerating, but I remember exactly how I felt as I watched them pull out of the driveway without saying goodbye to me.  Why did my mom and dad leave with Caroline so suddenly?  The emotions that I was feeling were so immense.  It was like I was holding my precious, tiny heart in my hands and as I watched them drive away, I left it to shatter into thousands of little pieces.  My grandmother said, "It's ok, Stephy. They'll be back soon." 

So, if I claimed that I spent the day entirely alone, I would be slightly exaggerating.  I still had a decent birthday.  There was just a little hiccup in the day because my sister had to go to the hospital immediately and take my mom and my dad with her.  My cousins and I were playing Super Mario Bros on our synced Nintendo’s when my grandmother received a phone call from my mother.  We learned that Caroline had appendicitis.  I had no idea what that meant, but I was still furious.  On the way to the hospital and feeling outraged, I foraged for a piece of paper and a purple-inked pen in the backseat.  Tears flooding my eyes, my emotion recklessly guided the pen across the page.  I fiercely wrote for about a page, but the only words that I remember clearly are, "I hate you Caroline. You ruined my birthday. You ruin everything!" because I felt an extreme frustration with what she did to me.  I was so angry at Caroline that I could not put what I was feeling into clear words.  My letter declared my hatred for her because she ruined my birthday.  I wanted to punch a wall and cry.  I wanted others to feel sympathy for me and pity.  Since it was my celebratory day, I felt that it was so unfair for Caroline to take that joy away from me and my special day with her appendicitis.  Now, my clueless but loving grandmother thought I was being a kind sister and writing a nice, comforting note to my older sister.  How could she know what devious things I was up to when she was watching five young children for a few hours?  Grandy drove us to the hospital, and I was ready to hand deliver my note to the wonderful person who “ruined” my day.  Luckily, my mother intercepted my furious letter before I could give it to Caroline.  My sister already felt horrible about messing up my day, but as an annoyed eight-year-old, I was unaware of this.  I thought that she was purposely out to get me and ruin my birthday because I was a child.  My mother took me aside, and we had a meaningful chat in the hospital lobby.  My mom looked in my eyes and said, "Caroline is having emergency surgery. She has to get her appendix removed."  Confused, I stood quiet.  What does that even mean, I thought.  Comprehending my misunderstanding of what an appendix is, my mother went into finer detail.  She then sternly said, "I hope you know that Caroline really did not want this to happen. She had been complaining of her pains for a while, but I didn't listen. You should not be mad at her. You should be glad that your sister is going to be okay. You need to grow up and stop being so selfish!"  My tears calmed down and settled to a steady flow rather than the torrential deluge that they were.  No words came out of my mouth, but my mom and I embraced after I started to feel less upset.  I learned a valuable lesson.  I should not be focused solely on the well-being of myself.  I needed to be considerate of others and how they feel because the world did not revolve around me.  Not everything was about me, and sometimes, life goes in an unplanned direction and you must learn how to deal with it.  This event highlighted the importance of growing up and being less selfish as everything does not revolve around you.  I was eight at the time that this occurred, and because I was so frustrated at Caroline for having appendicitis surgery and my family leaving me to be at her side, I did not even think about how it was hard for her because of the pain and the suffering that she endured.  Yes, she had complained about stomach pains before, but she was thought to have been experiencing another hypochondriac moment.  In no circumstance would it have been appropriate to write an atrociously mean letter to her for screwing up my birthday.  This event taught me how to become more empathetic.

When the splendid birthday plan of mine started to fall apart, I was not prepared for it.  My reaction and writing of the letter created a memory that still haunts me because of how horrible of a sister I almost was. Writing that horrendous letter to my sister is definitely at the top of my list for being one of the worst things I have ever done. I am so appreciative that my mother intercepted that letter from me. Eventually Caroline learned of the behind-the-scenes circumstances that took place regarding this unfortunate event. However, at the time, Caroline did not mean to delay my special birthday plans by having appendicitis. It just happened. Life throws things at you, and you must know how to handle the unexpected. If this were to occur today, I would be more forgiving.  I would also be more accustomed to a sudden change by learning how to adapt to the scenario. Instead of having my ideal birthday celebration at the pool and a delicious fondue restaurant, I could throw a party in the hospital waiting room with Jell-O cups and chocolate milk, or I could postpone my birthday to a time when everyone is healthy and can enjoy the day for what it truly represents.  This circumstance highlighted the importance of shifting towards a "go with the flow" life approach, which I embody more to this day.  There was no need for me to act irrationally and angrily.  I understand how I could have been frustrated, but the way I reacted was completely unacceptable.  At least now, my family and I have a funny story to laugh about regarding my eighth birthday and how nothing can ever come close in comparison because after all, it was Friday the 13th.

-Stephanie Sandra