Alex's Home-Personal Narrative

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

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 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.

“Dad!” Was the only word that had rushed out of Russell’s mouth the instant he saw his father enter the room. And, once he finished hugging Cary he then added, “Have you found him? What did those people you arrested say?”

I don’t get why my sister is sending me here, sending me to rehab. Its not like I have a problem. Ok, I have a slight problem but that doesn’t mean I need to go to rehab for it. She thinks it will help me “get better”. I get so annoyed with her when she says that. All she ever says to me now is do this and you’ll get better, try harder and maybe things would work out. Try harder. You don’t think I’ve tried my whole life to fix the things that are wrong with me. I have. I fought every single day and nothing ever changed. I’m still the same way I was since I was little. I’m still messed up. I know I am but she can’t honestly think that rehab is going to help can she? I highly doubt it.

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.

When I opened my eyes only two things were on my mind, Sabrina Alistair Institution, something was important about these two things something about them had me drawn to them.... something.

James, 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.

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

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.

Out the window and down the fire escape, twenty floors was nothing at this point, and considering police would have to get here and go all the way up to the top, I was in the clear. As I slide down the ladder to the ground, I heard the sirens pulling up in the front, perfect timing, I walked out the alley, taking off my hoodie and slowly joining the crowd forming behind the cop cars. “The best place to hide is in plain sight,” something grandpa told me that I'll never forget, though considering I was a college student with a backpack in New York, blending in was a given. Making my way to the side of the crowd, trying to catch a word of what the officers were saying. “Suspect, average height, weight, witness says all they saw was a shadow going out the window.

Daniel's bemused expression said more than words. His eyes swept across the room, and his brows furrowed slightly. The dark gray walls were painted bright yellow. Baby animal decals replaced the Amsterdam posters.

I experienced a devastating moment on December 21, 2013. Alex and I were childhood friends who grew up playing basketball and we were always writing poetry down. But it was a difficult environment where we lived because there always a fight going down, illegal substances, and even worse someone dying. Alex died from severe gunshot wounds. After I heard the news about him, I cried like a pouring waterfall. My tears dropped down to the ground and then the dirt turned soggy. Alex’s death was one of the most devastating times in my entire life.

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