Surname 1

Student’s Name

Professor’s Name

Course Name

Date

The Secret Sacrifice.

I have always believed that everyone deserves a great miracle at some point in life. Being

the only child to the most loving and caring parents I have ever met, I felt like I had received my

miracle. I barely looked forward to anything better in my days because I believed I had it all. My

parents worked and loved very hard to ensure I had it all until it was not. After arriving from

school, I found my mother at the kitchen counter in an unfamiliar, somber mood I had never seen

on her face. For the first time in my sixteen years of life, our memories of happiness that were

clearly visible as one entered the house faded so quickly, leaving room for the darkest clouds that

seemed to obscure any rays of hope.

"Mommy, are you okay? You look so sad!" I said as I ran towards my sorrow-engulfed

mother with open arms, hoping to give her some of our family's comforting hugs.

"I am fine, my love," she said as she composed herself. She sniffled back her tears while

spreading her arms to welcome my embrace.

"Mom, you are not fine, please talk to me," I said as I pulled a counter stool and sat

opposite my mother.

"You have always been the most perspective person I know, my little detective", said

Mother, trying to lessen the tension that was beginning to grow between our silence.

“Moooom…” I said with unfiltered concern on my face.

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"Okay love," said Mother, "when you were three years old, I suffered a soul-crashing loss

after losing your baby brother after birth. Our family lineage has a history of loss, either of the

mother or the newborn baby, immediately after birth."

A storm of sadness brewed in my mind as I tried to make sense of a situation that seemed

too big for my little mind to comprehend. All the questions possible of how a fate so wrong can

be dealt to the best people in the world best people came rushing into my head.

"After years of joy, love, and blessing you have been to this family, your father and I

decided to try again. My doctor's appointment today confirmed that I was expecting a baby boy,"

said the mother.

"No." I said roughly, pushing the stool to the ground.

"What do you mean no, my love this is the worst moment of my life, please try to be a bit

understanding." said Mother sorrowfully.

"No, I will ot understand, and if it kills me, I will not let anything happen to you or my

baby brother," I said tearfully, running to my room.

That summer, we all decided to visit my grandparents' cabin, not to await death that had

cast a cloud of sorrow over our happy family, but to search until we found a solution to our

family's imminent doom. My mother narrated to me all the family stories and experiences and

the efforts everyone made to avoid the soul-crushing despair that resulted from such loss. After a

week, my father and I went to visit my grandmother, the remaining grandparent I had, at the

assisted living care. She was diagnosed with early-onset dementia, which disconnected her from

reality and posed a danger to herself and others.

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When I visited, she immediately took my hands into hers and said, "you can do it, you are

the only one who can do it. It is in the basement." Afterward, she could not make any other

coherent speech, so we said our goodbyes and left.

"What do you think is in the basement," I asked my father while driving home.

"Probably nothing, since there is no basement in that old creaky house," answered Father

with quite a dejected feeling. Getting home, I could not stop searching all over the house for a

secret way to access the basement, to no avail. During dinner that night, I noticed the

contrastingly new fireplace at the forefront of the house. I ran towards it and moved a few

wooden places around it that were barely used. There it was, a secret door to a hidden basement.

My father helped me open it, and we entered through the spiral staircase. Mainly old and torn

books scattered everywhere across the room, a few boxes half-way unbacked hang aimlessly on

the shelves. "Our Family's Sacrifice" was the name i came to decode of the book whose pictures

seemed to offer some form of hope for our unbearable reality. It was written in a foreign

language, and my attempts to get help from my grandmother did not bear much help. Therefore,

my summer was dedicated to hours and hours of library research to decode the information of the

book. With the help of my whole family, we managed to decode the ull book in almost a whole

month. Unfortunately, the message we decoded was far worse than the solution we hoped. That

day, no one talked to each other on the way home.

“Do you think it would work?” I asked loudly, breaking the deafening silence that

surrounded the dining table.

“Be quiet!” father roared across the table, “that is not a solution, only more problem.”

“Mom,” I called trying to get an eye contact from my devastated mother, “you said you

tried everything, you have not tried this, we have to.”

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"No, i cannot loose a child to welcome another one, that might literally kill me."

answered my tear-stricken mother.

I knew that insisting on the message of the book would only cause more pain so i let it go

for a few weeks then revisited the book. The decoded message claimed that to break the curse,

one had to sacrifice their most beloved child. This sacrifice did not necessarily mean death but

instead disowning the child, until the new born boy was at the age when ties were cut from the

beloved child.

“This is not only about you mother, i will have to go through this loss at some point in

life if we do not do this, please let me help you.” I said with conviction.

“This is worse than my first loss, you are the joy of this family, how can we disown you

my love?” said mother and father in agreement.

“You have given me everything any child could ever want, please let me save the future

of this family.” I said as i hugged them tightly. Without waiting for their response, I ran into my

bedroom and cried myself to sleep.

I knew everyday longer i stayed is a day longer i will have to stay away. Therefore, after

two more weeks, I wrote my parents a letter, left it on my bed, and left home before they woke

up. I knew they would be devastated, cry, and even mourn my disappearance but I had received

my miracle for sixteen years, it was time for me to be a miracle to my family.

“
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