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Re: Proof read my paper for English please? (personal narrative):]?

Re: Proof read my paper for English please? (personal narrative):]? Topic: Pay for english paper
July 17, 2019 / By Abishai
Question: (ugh! sorry no indents..) Here it is: The faint ticking of the clock echoed down the hallway, every tick adding to the insanity of the moment. The walls were covered in tacky old wallpaper and a pasty white paint. I could feel the chilling, lofty, wooden door lingering behind my back. I had already stopped paying attention to the card game my grandma was trying to get us to play. It was bad enough the floor was hard and uncomfortable. I was at the hospital. The last place I wanted to be, however I'd make an exception this time. My mind drifted to my mom. She was getting a monthly exam because she was three months pregnant; I was going to get a little sister. Her name was to be 'Esme' meaning love. It seemed just like yesterday, when I blew out the candles on my birthday cake, and wished to God for a little sibling. But something in the back of my mind told me that this was a terrible moment, and my brain seemed to brace for something unexpected. Still, I sat there, thinking of what my life could be like, what it would be like. At that time there was nothing I wanted more than to be by Esme's side while she grew up. At least, that's what I thought. I can remember it clearly. How a perfectly happy moment can turn sour in a blink of an eye. How easily the reality and balance you worked so hard to achieve can be flipped upside down. How simple words can be daggers to the heart. That doesn't even half explain the emotions I felt that day. Saying that it felt like an eighteen-wheeler running over me would've been an understatement. I remember that the hallway was eerily quiet. It was as if the whole world was holding it's breathe. And then without a second thought it let it out.The seemingly still world hit me in the back, literally. Someone was trying to get out the door. I forgot that I was sitting in front of it and hastily scooted away to let the perpetrator escape. I perched myself up, back straight, a smile, to apologize to the person. When I realized who that person was, my smile got even wider, and then I saw their face. My heart fell to my feet. My excitement was replaced with something else, I was perplexed, woeful. Child innocence blinded me. It was my mom. She was crying. I felt like crying too. Not because I was sad, but because my mom was crying. I was seven at the time, and at that age, there is nothing scarier than seeing your parents upset. Confusion embraced me. Before I had even time to piece myself together again and open my mouth, my grandma escorted my mom into the ladies room, leaving my siblings, Brenna Malachy, and I alone. We sat in silence. The air was frozen. All we could hear was the muffled sobs in the restroom. Like I said, being seven I didn't believe that anything bad could ever happen. To me, my mom getting pregnant meant that getting a little sibling was a sure thing. I believed that I'd wake up one morning and the baby would be fast asleep in it's crib. The thought of something bad happening never even crossed my mind. That was the reason why I couldn't piece the puzzle of why my mom was crying together. We sat in the hallway for what seemed like hours. Then the door creaked open and my mom's reddened, determined face came out, with my grandma trailing close behind. Something in her expression told me I shouldn't ask her what was happening, and that we should just follow her lead. I did the only thing I could do. I went over and slipped my little hand into hers and gave her the biggest smile I could muster, and silently waited for her orders on what to do next. She looked back down, emotionless, and in a deaf tone voice told us that we were taking a trip to the zoo. I instantly got excited. All of what had just occurred seemed like yesterdays news. Seven years old is a complicated age and you easily get distracted. The rest of that day is a blur. I remember going to see the zebras, monkeys, and giraffes, but the whole time we were there I couldn't shake off the ominous feeling I was having. Something big was going to happen, I just didn’t know what it was yet. The ride home was even more awkward. Silence is a powerful thing, and when taken to extremes it would be a lot like that drive. You could hear every pebble as it bounced off the car and the breathing of the person next to you. In my case it was my brother’s wheezing. My mom didn’t say a word home, she looked alright. Her belly was still plump, healthy looking, but looks are deceiving, and little did I know how true that was. Dinner that night was even worse. Not only was my mom in the weird mood, but now, she’d rubbed off my dad and he was in a mood too. They kept glancing at us, as if they were suspicious, or checking to make sure we wouldn’t break down. And then, mid-way through the meal my mom cleared her throat and began to speak. I remember that I had just popped some broccoli in my mouth, and was totally shocked by the lack of silence. I quickly chewed and swallowe A soft, mournful look cam upon her face, as if she was being forced to do something she didn’t want to do. Taking a deep breath, she began her sentence. “Well you know how we went to the doctor’s today, right?” she implied, obviously trying to act pleasant. She looked at each of us individually for a second, as if she was trying to commit our faces to memory. Then she got a grimace and looked down. The small talk was over. “Your little sister, they said that Esme is dead.” A tear dropped into my mom’s plate soaking into her mashed potatoes. It took a minute for the word’s to sink in, and even longer for my brain to construct them into sentences. And then it clicked, but they were still just words. I couldn't believe them myself. They seemed so alien, as if we were watching a show on T.V. That day, my mind raced through all the possibilities that somehow my mom was lying, but she wouldn’t say something like that if it weren’t true. In fact, they didn’t sink into in till the day of Esme’s funeral. When they put the too-small coffin into the ground. That’s when it hit. And it hit hard. I knew that something I had never really had, or will have was gone, forever, and I was never getting it back. I felt that I had almost failed as a big sister, unable to protect her from some unknown harm. Still, that day forever lingers in my memory. Like a healing wound, it comes out every now and then and I wonder what life would have been like if that day never existed. But I realized that day, that everything happens for a reason, and that nothing lasts forever. The experiences you go through help you shape who you are and what you will become. We have to find it within ourselves to come over our own obstacles, weather they’re mental or physical. By doing this we become stronger ourselves and are able to use that strength to help others when the time comes, and we will be able to cope with our loses better. You just got to keep getting up when ever you fall, letting persistence surround you, and always willing to get back up on our feet. My mom was a shining example of this. The day she found out that Esme had died, her own child, she dealed with my siblings and I first. Taking us to the zoo, and acting so strong when she probably just wanted to lay down and cry. She put our happiness first never letting her smile waver. Life puts you through many hard times, but you just have to remember that joyful times are still on their way to come. Done. Thanks everyone who actually read through ALL that. I really appreciate your time and effort. :] <3 xoxo, Ella
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Best Answers: Re: Proof read my paper for English please? (personal narrative):]?

Sive Sive | 3 days ago
Here you go. I put the corrections I thought may be helpful in parenthesis. You did a beautiful job writing this. I am sorry you lost your sister. :( The faint ticking of the clock echoed down the hallway, every tick adding to the insanity of the moment. The walls were covered in tacky old wallpaper and a pasty white paint. I could feel the chilling, lofty, wooden door lingering behind my back. I had already stopped paying attention to the card game my grandma was trying to get us to play. It was bad enough the floor was hard and uncomfortable. I was at the hospital. The last place I wanted to be, however I'd make an exception this time. My mind drifted to my mom. She was getting a monthly exam because she was three months pregnant; I was going to get a little sister. Her name was to be 'Esme' meaning love. It seemed just like yesterday, when I blew out the candles on my birthday cake, and wished to God for a little sibling. But something in the back of my mind told me that this was a terrible moment, and my brain seemed to brace for something unexpected. Still, I sat there, thinking of what my life could be like, what it would be like. At that time there was nothing I wanted more than to be by Esme's side while she grew up. At least, that's what I thought. I can remember it clearly. How a perfectly happy moment can turn sour in a blink of an eye. How easily the reality and balance you worked so hard to achieve can be flipped upside down. How simple words can be daggers to the heart. That doesn't even half explain the emotions I felt that day. (Consider revising, this sentence could be taken as armature writing) to the Saying that it felt like an eighteen-wheeler running over me would've been an understatement. I remember that the hallway was eerily quiet. It was as if the whole world was holding it's breathe. And then without a second thought it let it out.(space needed)The seemingly still world hit me in the back, literally. Someone was trying to get out the door. I forgot that I was sitting in front of it and hastily scooted away to let the perpetrator escape. I perched myself up, back straight, a smile, to apologize to the person. When I realized who that person was, my smile got even wider, and then I saw their face. My heart fell to my feet. My excitement was replaced with something else, I was perplexed, woeful. Child innocence blinded me. It was my mom. She was crying. I felt like crying too. Not because I was sad, but because my mom was crying. I was seven at the time, and at that age, there is nothing scarier than seeing your parents upset. Confusion embraced me. Before I had even time to piece myself together again and open my mouth, my grandma escorted my mom into the ladies room, leaving my siblings, Brenna Malachy, and I alone. (The previous sentence could be considered a run-on sentence. You may want to divide it into two sentences. Keep the emotion in them though, that pulls one heart into your story) We sat in silence. The air was frozen. All we could hear was (were) the muffled sobs in the restroom. Like I said, (consider “As I said”, or “As I previously stated”, or something of the sort. What you said is fine, it just could be taken as amateur writing by some strict instructors) being seven I didn't believe that anything bad could ever happen. To me, my mom getting pregnant meant that getting a little sibling was a sure thing. I believed that I'd wake up one morning and the baby would be fast asleep in it's crib. The thought of something bad happening never even crossed my mind. That was the reason why (exclude the word “why” for this particular sentence it isn’t necessary.) I couldn't piece (consider adding the word “together” after “piece” in this sentence) the puzzle of why my mom was crying together. We sat in the hallway for what seemed like hours. Then the door creaked open and my mom's reddened, determined face came out, with my grandma trailing close behind. Something in her expression told me I shouldn't ask her what was happening, and that we should just follow her lead. I did the only thing I could do. I went over and slipped my little hand into hers and gave her the biggest smile I could muster, (perhaps – end this sentence here and beging the next like this “Silently, I waited for her orders on what do to next.”) and silently waited for her orders on what to do next. She looked back down, emotionless, and in a deaf tone voice told us that we were taking a trip to the zoo. I instantly got excited. All of what had just occurred seemed like yesterdays news. Seven years old is a complicated age and you easily get distracted. The rest of that day is a blur. I remember going to see the zebras, monkeys, and giraffes, but the whole time we were there I couldn't shake off the ominous feeling I was having. Something big was going to happen, I just didn’t know what it was yet. The ride home was even more awkward. Silence is a powerful thing, and when taken to (consider
👍 274 | 👎 3
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Sive Originally Answered: Who could help proof read my research paper?
kaju, I know of a number of people who are qualified to do this, but it's a great deal to ask of a stranger without payment. Proofreaders earn $20-$35 an hour and complete all corrections of the writing (not the content) in 3-10 pp. per hour, depending on how much correcting it needs. If you're not prepared to pay for professional-level service, you can expect sub-professional results.

Phyliss Phyliss
The day she found out that Esme had died, her own child, she dealed with my siblings and I first. dealed should be changed to dealt
👍 120 | 👎 1

Marylou Marylou
WOW!!!! IM SORRY THAT HAPPENED TO YOU!! that was an amazing story you used the correct words in everything! your sure to get the grade you deserve! your writing is excellent.
👍 118 | 👎 -1

Laney Laney
I think it is really good, just smooth out the transitions and conclusion. It is almost there. 9.5 of 10.
👍 116 | 👎 -3

Laney Originally Answered: Personal narrative ideas?
You should make it about a button who has a sign that says "do not push" and the button is in the middle of NYC. Talk about all the people the button sees, wondering if they should push the button or not.

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