My First Big Break
Essay #1 (Narrative)
9 September 2008
My First Big Break
When I was nine, my family and I lived smack in the middle of St. Louis, Missouri. One day my mother dragged me and my brother to one of her drab Girl Scout Leader’s meetings. The building was located on the outskirts of downtown St. Louis. It was a breezy spring evening. I could smell freshly cut grass mixed with the harsh exhaust fumes from the nearby highway. My brother and I played outside the long one story church building; so we wouldn’t disturb the gross of adults. A small McDonald’s Kid’s Meal beach ball was the focus of our fun and excitement. For an hour we kicked and punched the light weight ball adorned with such idols as Ronald McDonald, Grimace, and the infamous Hamburglar. After an overly excited swing of my foot, I watched, in slow motion, as the ball soared through the air. I realized immediately where the ball was descending. I gazed up at the nine foot high protruding shelf where the ball came to rest; no more than two inches from falling back into out playful arms.
My brother, who was 15 at the time, devised a plot to get our sole means of entertainment back. I was to ascend my brother’s five foot five inch frame, and erect myself atop his shoulders in order to reach our prize. I clumsily clamored my way up from his thigh to his shoulders. I squat with my small frame around his head clinging for life through his thick hair. As he stood I felt my confidence in his plan slipping away with my balance, only to be replaced by fear. I sat on his shoulders thinking about the act, but remained motionless. He coaxed and taunted me. “Don’t just sit there,” he said “just stand up, stretch out and grab the edge of the overhang.” Pathetically, I half attempted to stand, but quickly cowered back to the safety of my brother’s shoulders. “What happened? Get up there and get the damn ball,” he...