~Genre:realistic fiction, humor~
Chapter 27
It takes a miracle
Wednesday’s, one of my favori days, because on the jour I was first born, I was born on Wednesday. The funny thing was my parents wanted to name me Wednesday, but Adam and Melanie kept on howling and yelling, so my mom picked Pamela, so my middle name is Wednesday.
Why the name Pamela?
I’ll tell toi why, I’m a miracle baby, toi know how some baby’s don’t come out perfect and the hospital has to hold them, well that’s what happened. Anyways there was nurse who visited me every so often, praying for me to get better, and one time she kissed my forehead and the suivant jour I was better.
Her name was Pamela.
My mom told me she was my hero, my parents believed she saved my life with her prayers and tending. I was grateful, though I never got to meet her when I was older, mom told me they went looking for her when I was six but the people a dit she disappeared.
My parents named me after her, in their way of gratitude, mom thinks she was Angel sent from above, dad thinks she was just had a cœur, coeur of or and a faith that helped.
Pamela influenced our family a lot, since then we’ve been going to church and being religious, had she never existed we probably would never have been Christian.
I’ve barely thought of her for awhile, I don’t know why, I remember when I use to write thank toi letters to her and my mom would put them on the wall, there still on there. My chicken scrawl brings a wince to my face, but I can’t help but smile after.
Now, thinking of the woman I can’t help but wonder if my mom was right, ou if she was just a miracle out of nowhere.
I wonder if she’d be proud of me, I hope so. I’ve been pretty good so far, ou at least I think I did. In the living room my parents have this thing, where it’s like a shrine of us, on one mur there’s a picture of Adam, the other Melanie, and the other me.
I try not to wrinkle my noise at the baby picture of me, I look hideous, though everyone begs to differ. Then there’s a cute picture beside it of a six an old Pamela, smiling brightly at the camera. And there’s another older one where I’m wearing braces, on the other side.
Thank God there off now, I smile, knowing it’s pearly white and straight. On the bottom of those three pictures are a much plus récent me, I’m a about a an younger in that picture. And under that is this golden plague with my name.
Pamela Wednesday Jones.
I shake my head as I look at the pictures, I grew up fast, too fast, but I’m doing fine. I slowly look around the room, knowing it’s barely changed the jour we moved here. I remember Adam and Melanie crying because they were in elementary leaving there Friends behind, and that an I was going to be starting.
I grinned as I took my sacred document and flip through the pages, from chicken scrawl to my new and improved handwriting, I read myself, my voice, my life.
I can’t help but laugh when I finish, and I know it’s childish but I couldn’t help but feel proud of myself.
I was pretty awesome.
*Thanks for reading! Please review, fan, and don't copy. Really appreciated :)*
Chapter 27
It takes a miracle
Wednesday’s, one of my favori days, because on the jour I was first born, I was born on Wednesday. The funny thing was my parents wanted to name me Wednesday, but Adam and Melanie kept on howling and yelling, so my mom picked Pamela, so my middle name is Wednesday.
Why the name Pamela?
I’ll tell toi why, I’m a miracle baby, toi know how some baby’s don’t come out perfect and the hospital has to hold them, well that’s what happened. Anyways there was nurse who visited me every so often, praying for me to get better, and one time she kissed my forehead and the suivant jour I was better.
Her name was Pamela.
My mom told me she was my hero, my parents believed she saved my life with her prayers and tending. I was grateful, though I never got to meet her when I was older, mom told me they went looking for her when I was six but the people a dit she disappeared.
My parents named me after her, in their way of gratitude, mom thinks she was Angel sent from above, dad thinks she was just had a cœur, coeur of or and a faith that helped.
Pamela influenced our family a lot, since then we’ve been going to church and being religious, had she never existed we probably would never have been Christian.
I’ve barely thought of her for awhile, I don’t know why, I remember when I use to write thank toi letters to her and my mom would put them on the wall, there still on there. My chicken scrawl brings a wince to my face, but I can’t help but smile after.
Now, thinking of the woman I can’t help but wonder if my mom was right, ou if she was just a miracle out of nowhere.
I wonder if she’d be proud of me, I hope so. I’ve been pretty good so far, ou at least I think I did. In the living room my parents have this thing, where it’s like a shrine of us, on one mur there’s a picture of Adam, the other Melanie, and the other me.
I try not to wrinkle my noise at the baby picture of me, I look hideous, though everyone begs to differ. Then there’s a cute picture beside it of a six an old Pamela, smiling brightly at the camera. And there’s another older one where I’m wearing braces, on the other side.
Thank God there off now, I smile, knowing it’s pearly white and straight. On the bottom of those three pictures are a much plus récent me, I’m a about a an younger in that picture. And under that is this golden plague with my name.
Pamela Wednesday Jones.
I shake my head as I look at the pictures, I grew up fast, too fast, but I’m doing fine. I slowly look around the room, knowing it’s barely changed the jour we moved here. I remember Adam and Melanie crying because they were in elementary leaving there Friends behind, and that an I was going to be starting.
I grinned as I took my sacred document and flip through the pages, from chicken scrawl to my new and improved handwriting, I read myself, my voice, my life.
I can’t help but laugh when I finish, and I know it’s childish but I couldn’t help but feel proud of myself.
I was pretty awesome.
*Thanks for reading! Please review, fan, and don't copy. Really appreciated :)*
This is what toi call the Earth
This is what people call the world
This is what we call life
We can't go on pretending jour par day
That good things will always happen
Stormy days will come, it's not a miracle
But the storm will end soon, and all will be clear again
Heavy rain's crashing against my windowsill
I think, when will this ever stop?
The thunder's crashing against the trees outside
Today's not going to be a fine day, but it will end
I woke up this morning and guess what I saw
Bright sunny mornings with a clear future
No one's gonna stop me from believin
The rain stopped and the future's bright again
Good and bad create our lives
We can't pretend that everything's gonna always be alright
It's hard to think that something's gonna be wrong
But it's the truth, the whole truth.
We can't go on jour par jour pretending
Everything's gonna be alright
But we know that sunny days will come out
Soon ou later.