My name is Peace and I am 12 years old. I was born in South Africa. I have two sisters and a brother, and a mother and father.When I was around 3 years old, my younger brother pushed me into a freezer, and I was temporarily paralyzed. People say that that’s the reason why I act the way I do, but that isn’t true.
When I got older, my parents let us go out more, and we would go into the woods. One day, we found an abandoned house. The door was open, so of course we went in. Inside, there were stairs, and we climbed up them to the top, where there were rooms. The stairs broke as my older sister was climbing up them; she couldn’t come up. So it was just my older brother, who was 9 then, and my 8-year-old-self. We were checking out the rooms but finding nothing. Until we got to a room with the door closed; we opened it and inside, there was a hairy bum! We ran as fast as we could, jumping over the broken stairs from the top to the bottom floor of the house. Out the door we blew, running as fast as we could until we reached home. We never told our parents. That was the scariest day of my life, which I will never forget.
The next January, when I was still the same age, we went to the mountains, as we do every year, and played in the snow. One year, my older cousin and I went deep into the woods. We found a cave, and went looking for bats; it never crossed our mind that the cave might be housing something bigger, and scarier. Once inside the cave, we saw a bear! It sat up, and my cousin yelled, “Bear!” We ran as fast as we could toward the cabin in which we were staying. On the way, I fell, and my cousin lifted me up with one hand and pulled me along with him as we kept running. When we reached our cabin, we told everyone about the bear; my dad was the only one who believed us. He went out looking for the bear, but he never found it.
Now, I’m twelve years old. Life is good. I have a lot of life left to live.. maybe I’ll write an autobiography.