Alex's Home-Personal Narrative

The stuff you see in crime shows. “That’s a lot of cops.” Alice states. “Yea, there are.” “Let’s go ask if they will let you in. Did you bring any proof of who you are?” “I brought my student Id. That should work.” I answer “Yea, I hope that’s enough.” We walk up to the cop that looks like he’s in charge, because he’s just standing there bossing everybody around. “Sir, would I be allowed to enter my room.” “Who are you.” The officer asks me with annoyance. “I’m Anna Ackerman, the daughter of deceased Miranda Ackerman, and sister of deceased Devin Ackerman.” “You are only allowed in your room, go around the back. I’ll have one of my officers bring you.” “Whatever.” I say exhausted. Officer Rogers brought us around to the back. We are going inside the house, the house that my mother will never walk in the halls, or cook in the kitchen, or read in the office. The house that my brother will never play in the game room, or talk with his friends on the phone in his room, or play hoops with me in the driveway. “Anna are you gonna go inside?” I didn’t realize I was just standing in the doorway. “Yea, I’m just tired.” Alice still staring at me with worry in her eyes. I ignore her look, and steady myself. I walk in, and turn to the hall that leads to my room. “Alice you coming?” “Yea.” “Officer you can stay here.” I tell him. “Fine.” He

A few years ago, a friend of mine named Angela, invited me to her family’s Thanksgiving. The invitation was offered for the sole reason that she did not wish to be alone with her cousin, who to her and to her parent’s was a corrupting influence. An agreement was struck and my mother and I drove to the camp where it was to be held and sojourned for the night. Upon our arrival it was just Angela’s immediate family and us, and even when her cousin arrived, we avoided her. However, in the morning the situation changed. Not only had Angela’s friend, Christian, who I was not expecting, arrived, but Angela’s parents convinced Angela to spend time with her cousin. This transmuted the entire dynamic of the environment.

It was a cold pretty windy night in Forest City. I was in 7th grade and I was staying at my best friend at the time Haley’s house. She also had Daelynn over but we won't really as good as friends. I remember the exact time when we thought of this amazing idea. It was 11:56 at night and daelynn has been smoking weed for awhile and she thought she needed some so she asked us. “Why don’t we call Jordan and ask him and Andrew if we could buy some weed from them.” Now at this point I was ready. I was preparing myself to do this crazy thing that we were about to do. Haley and I agreed to it and so she called Jordan over with his best friend Andrew. By this time it was about 12:08. They said they would but we would have to meet them at the courthouse

I HAD BEEN ASLEEP QUITE SOUNDLY FOR A COUPLE HOURS, WHEN I WAS AWOKEN BY AN ALL TOO FAMILIAR SOUND. IT SEEMED LIKE EVERY TIME MY BRAIN REGISTERED CERTAIN NOISES - EVEN WHEN I WAS DEEP IN SLEEP, IT SENT OFF A PANIC TRIGGER THAT FLOODED THROUGH MY MIND. THIS WAS ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

“I’m going to break you.” She said. “Every single bone in your body and once you recover, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

I left my radio in the back room in was most likely with the volunteer who was covering for me. He yelled at me to "get up" and told me lets talk in Joshs' office (which was a few steps away). Daniel storms in Joshs' office, turns on the light and sits down in the office chair in front of the desk with his arms crossed and a sticky note in his hand. I follow him and prop the door open with the door stop is I say "lets keep the door open it's hot in here." The real reason I did this was because I was extremely uncomfortable. He then yells, "Do you want to tell me where you have been?". I was standing in the door way, not completely in the room when I told him that I met with HR. He asked very angrily who I got permission to leave from and then stated that I left my post without permission.

I woke up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and went down stairs and called my friend Joey Gliech and said “Today is the day!”

I woke up and looked over to where Erik's mattress was, he was gone but I wasn't surprised. I laid my head back down and awoke about 15 minutes later. Erik was sitting on his mattress looking in my direction smiling.

Natasha Romanoff smirks as she watches a wayward demi-god grimace at the sealed package of cup-a-noodles in his hand. He leans a hip against the island counter, habitually feigning nonchalance. However, as an astute student of body language she can read the subtle tension in musculature of his face. She pauses for only an instant at the entryway to observe him, confirming for herself again, that he actually is trying fit in here. She would never presume to mention it to Director Fury, not without a direct inquiry from him, but she had had her own concerns when S.H.I.E.L.D. agreed to take Loki on as part of some sort of Asgardian rehabilitation program. Now she’s less certain of her opinion. Not wanting to be noticed spying, she breezes into the common area and crosses to the refrigerator, perusing the offerings briefly before grabbing a bottled smoothie. She can feel

"More than anything, I just want you to know that there is more than one person you can lean on. You may have someone up their who you are relying on, but you have two incrediably strong sons who would never wish to see their mother in pain like this. Whatever the outcome we finally get your boys will be strong for you and in return I'm sure you will be strong for them."[/b]

You never actually said your name out loud to anyone, and I'm not entirely sure how I managed to find it out in the first place. I'm sure it was through the whisper chains you hear every so often in this cafe. You have a soft voice you know, it's barely audible when you say things, it's not quite what I'd call gruff or gritty, it just has this sort of toughness. It's as though you've steadily built up a defence mechanism in your voice so people don't ask you things you'd rather not answer.

If you’ve never met Samantha, then you’re missing out. Some things she enjoys to do include: going to church, sleeping, running, and watching old movies. She has gone garage saling with her mom every weekend since elementary school. Samantha has 3 older siblings, and she loves spending time with her family. She’s well rounded when it comes to school; in fact, her favorite classes are World History and Anatomy. Samantha hopes to possibly go into the medical field when she’s older, she was inspired by the television series Grey’s Anatomy. Although her birthday is in May, her favorite time of the year is winter. Samantha hopes to live anywhere but Oklahoma when she’s older, but she would prefer if it were in a city. Her ideal trip would be all

"You can't keep holding on to stuff like this, James." Natasha sighed, slipping a delicate hand through her hair. "It's not healthy."

I raced inside Amber’s garage “Emily get on one of the bikes we can go for a ride before it rains.” Amber shouted from inside the house. I grabbed one of the bikes and of course I was to short for it, but I used it anyway. As Amber raN out she hopPED on her bike and we starTED riding down to the street. We rode very slowly because of how short I was but we still managed to make it to Braden’s house on time. Braden ignored us when we went to his house so then we began to ride back. As we arrived at the stop sign down the street from Brandon's house when it starts to rain. Amber and I decide to take an alternative path to get home faster, but with our luck the way we picked was closed. We turned around and we started to hear sirens. We started

For eight years, my husband and I had built our life together, adding in children, buying homes, changing jobs, and moving across the country. Our marriage had been built off of a great friendship, and our love had always been strong, full of sacrifices for one another, great laughs, and plenty of grace. But all of that did not stop the question from escaping my lips that morning, “Are we going to make it?”