Download Chelsey. My True Story of Murder, Loss, and Starting Over by Chelsey Shannon PDF
By Chelsey Shannon
Chelsey was once dealth the unthinkable.
When Her simply Surviving guardian, her liked father, was once violently murdered days prior to her fourteenth birthday, Chelsey's lifestyles used to be eternally replaced. As she used to be pressured to return to phrases with a brand new domestic lifestyles, a brand new institution . . . a brand new identification as an orphan, Chelsey struggled to make feel of her own tragedy. but she stumbled on how to flourish regardless of all of the odds.
"I considered myself in a brand new gentle: a lady, newly fourteen, status in her useless father's research, all in black, a unmarried tear streaming down her cheek. i used to be on my own. My kinfolk advised me many times i used to be now not, yet with no him, i used to be. i used to be not anyone's child."
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Additional info for Chelsey. My True Story of Murder, Loss, and Starting Over
Though he tried his best to make it to everything, it simply wasn’t always possible. The one day he refused to miss, however, was my birthday. Dad always made this day extremely special, giving me probably too many gifts. When I turned six, he even allowed me to have all my friends from school over for a sleepover. I relished celebrating my birthday because it reminded me of how special I was to my dad and how happy my parents had been to have me. Despite tradition, however, on my fourteenth birthday, a week after my dad had been killed, celebrating was the last thing I wanted to do.
I looked out to see a green van pull into my driveway. Though I didn’t recognize the car, I was filled with elation at the sight of it. I saw my dad, wearing sunglasses, step out, along with a woman who also seemed familiar. I ran to the front door of the house to let them in, throwing it open. Dad was standing there, with the woman and many others who had exited the car with him. When I jumped into his arms, I woke up. As I sat up in my bed, I breathed heavily as if I had really been running. Though the dream had been extremely abbreviated, I felt joyous as I looked back on it.
Though the dream had been extremely abbreviated, I felt joyous as I looked back on it. I hadn’t dreamt of my father since his death, and I’d found immense comfort and joy in the dream, almost as if it were a message from him, telling me he was okay and he was here. I rose from bed happier than I’d felt in weeks and went downstairs into the kitchen, where my Aunt Chris was already eating. Grinning freely, I told her about the dream and how happy I’d felt. I was pleased when she shared my suspicion that it was more than just a simple nighttime reverie.