Believe Me Narrative

It’s Thursday, September 15 my supervisor Sherry Smith calls me into her office and tells me I have to go to Northwest Miami-Dade to evaluate a family of four. The first thing that comes into my mind is, “Oh great another Hispanic family.” She explains that there have been several domestic abuse complaints and they need me to be there by 6 o’clock today. I look at the time and it’s already 4:50 PM. Our office is in Fort Lauderdale; all I can think about is the traffic while making assumptions of the family. The last thing she ends with is, “Call me if you need me, I don’t want another melt-down.” In my last journal entry, I wrote about how I was in Northwest Miami-Dade and I had my third Hispanic family, but our values didn’t coincide even

Around a few months ago, my parents became separated, and my dad had been bunking in our basement; as he had nowhere to go. Both he and my mom were emotionally drained, and he needed liberation from the confinement of our basement, so he decided to visit our property in New Mexico for awhile. None of us knew when he would return. I had been to New Mexico one time previously, and it didn’t take me much time at all to become completely infatuated with it. Furthermore, when I discovered he would be going, I knew it was my duty to talk my Mom into. However, ticket prices were astronomical, and we weren’t in the best place financially, as the divorce was an expensive process. Getting the stamp of approval wasn’t going to be easily done.

Charlie nodded in understanding. “Of course. In the meantime, however, I’m going to need dinner and beds arranged for my people. The large dining room in the hall would be perfect,” Charlie informed him as he looked over her group with distaste.

“Okay. Okay. Tell them I’ll be right there… No, no I was, um, I was just sleeping.”

I’ve never told this story before. Not because I’m ashamed or embarrassed. I’ve put off telling it for so long because it terrifies me. It is a story of a time I lost complete control. It is a story of loneliness and isolation. By not recalling it, or writing it down, it became just a string of events that happened in the past, meaningless and disconnected from the future. Putting it into words makes these past events the future. They become immortalized in writing, they become forever. But maybe putting words to my thoughts and feelings will alleviate some of that terror. Maybe I’ll be setting myself free.

“You know it’s wrong to try and stay in a hotel you didn’t pay for,” the voice started, “you’re going to pay.”

“No, I was just brought here from my house by a pair of police officers. Why am I here?”

“Ah yes, we haven’t made arrangements for anyone there since Mr. Davenport left for St. Louis.”

“You sleep in this room,” he pointed to one of the doors on the other side of the room, next to the office door. “Alright, well, where are you gonna sleep?” I continued.

She was eight years old, and it barely began getting crispy outside. Winter was right around the corner. She loved winter, the cold weather always made her all lubricous. Her favorite part of winter was eating cold food and wrapping herself around him while he was cold. She always thought cold items and food were the best in cold weather and having the air in front of her while it was cold just made it so fun. Unfortunately she wasn’t enjoying this upcoming winter without him.

"I assumed you wouldn 't want to stay in your old room, right?" She asked. I nodded and Claire walked in, slightly waving at me. "Wait why does he get to bring his boyfriend and I can 't bring mine?"

The car slowly crept down the long gravel road. I turned my head and saw a line of tree’s following behind and above us as we went. The end of the road was only a few feet away, and when we got there, the sun lit up the inside of the car like a chrismas tree. In front of us, a parking lot with a large building in the middle. As we drove up and parked, I read a sign on the building. The sign read “Check In”. My parents walked into the building and left me and my sister, who was only paying attention to her phone.The new campsite was big, and outside the sites, was a pool with a huge playground next to it. I got out, followed by my sister, and met our friend who was already there. We ran to the swings and jumped on. We sat there until my parents

"Alright tell Ms Finn that the meeting will occur on the 8th at 6:00pm. I'll make sure that my personal assistant will make reservations at Le Bernardin."

My husband had always been terrible at buying me presents. Last year for my birthday he got me floor mats for a car, and I do not even own a car. I’m not trying to complain, because I can see that he tries and genuinely wants me to like it, but I always end up returning everything he gets me. I love him so much that I don’t want him to be upset, so when he asks me where the present is that I bought him, I always try to get him off the topic. It’s not that he forgets about buying me something and gets me something random, he just really does not know any better. That’s why this year for Valentine’s Day I asked him if we could just not exchange gifts and spend the day together instead.

“Yep, but I don’t know anyone else in our class. I asked a bunch of people and they don’t have room 313 on their schedule.” said Jenny.