تعبير عن طفولتك واهم الاحداث التي اثرت في حياتك بالانجليزي

تعبير عن طفولتك واهم الاحداث التي اثرت في حياتك بالانجليزي

تعبير عن طفولتك واهم الاحداث التي اثرت في حياتك بالفرنسية

تعبير عن ذكريات طفولتي بالانجليزي

تعبير عن ذكريات المدرسة بالانجليزي

تعبير عن ذكريات الطفولة في المدرسة

تعبير عن طفولتي

قصة عن طفولتي

تعبير بالفرنسية عن souvenir

تعبير عن الطفولة قصير

 

 

Five or six years old, a nightmare often came to haunt my nights and fill my eyes with tears ...

My father and I were taking a walk on a stony path in a wooded hill. A gap in the foliage revealed another hill in the distance, similar to the one where we were. The weather was mixed and it was rather cold.

We were silently climbing the slight slope when we saw a dark wooden cabin at the entrance of a bend. She did not inspire confidence but I do not know why (dreams often stage very strange things), I walked with my father towards it, curious and anxious. I opened the door and was terrified at the sight of many hungry wolves inside. My father entering, I slammed the door and abandoned him in the midst of the ferocious beasts when he seemed to feel no particular emotion, I retraced my steps, hurtling down the slope, horrified. Back at the gap in the foliage, the hill facing me in sight, I screamed the first names of my mother and my sister because, I do not know for what reasons, they were there.

My nightmare was over at that point and I would wake up crying. I often had this excruciating nightmare but the demons that encroached in my head have disappeared for a long time already. It now allows me to deride dreams and nightmares.

 

 

 

I turn around. I can't remember exactly what time it was. Maybe somewhere between eight and nine o'clock. I hear voices downstairs. Apparently, I'm the only one still in bed. What warmth...

We are the twenty-eight. Only four days left, four days left and it's my birthday! At eight, one is tall, but at nine, even older!

So I promised Papa to go see Papi. I must go and pick some flowers for her, to make her room a little more cheerful.

But who could be with us at this hour? It wasn't just the voices of Mom and Dad. I throw my casserole dish at the foot of the bed and get up. My wet feet stick to the tiled staircase; it's the only noise you can hear.

Dad. Mom, hugging Laura. Grandpa. Grandma. Standing in the dining room. I get it. My blood only swirled around. I look at them. Dad leans against the standing man and lowers his head. Any act of unnecessary modesty. He wipes his eyes. Only the noises come back to me. Mom cries loudly, taking Laura like a doll. She, certainly not understanding the situation, lets it go, but also cries. Grandma finally turns to me. Already my face is more humid than a frog. I run to jump into her arms. She hugs me and cuddles me. With her free hand, she gently rubs my hair. My heart is tight. As if he was in a bird cage. My tears wet her blue blouse. I stick my head out.

"When ...?"

But it's Papa who answers me, in a muffled and unclear voice.

"Tonight. At two o'clock ..."

Mom continues:

"The hospital called Papa because Papi was not doing well. And by the time Papa arrived, Papi was gone ... In the sky ..."

She burst into tears. His words are, I believe, forever written in my memory ...

"Come on ... we're going outside ..." Granny said to me, taking my hand. "You know, now he's not in pain anymore, he's in heaven, with the angels, Grandpa, with the angels."

"With the angels". A simple and naive beauty; I only hope they take care of him. Also, I protested. I wanted to fight my fear of the elevators - which I still have, for that matter - to go see him and bring him his flowers.

I cry even more. Grandma is always next to me. She hands me a flower, but I turn my head. I explain to him why. I should not have ; she too is crying now. Granny is nice. I annoy her a lot, and she says "Stop pissing me off!" But today, I'm not making her angry. Because today I only have one Grandpa. My Grandpa who knows everything. The one who speaks English, who plants tomatoes and who reads history books.

My Grandpa Lyonnais, he is with the angels. Papa had told me that Papi Mulhouse had never known his real father and that it had always made him suffer a lot. But I think that the angels are going to look for my Papi Mulhouse's Daddy and will make them meet.

Grandma brings me back to Earth. She who talks all the time, who always has something to tell, even if it's the story of the neighbor's cat who ran away, today says nothing. Me neither. I don't like to talk. Perhaps it has been since that day.

The weather is nice. I don't want the sky to be happy and the Sun to smile while my Grandpa is gone.

Mom and Dad are sitting under the blind. Mom hides her head in her arms. Dad looks away, biting his little finger. He always does this when there is something wrong. But in addition, today