Blankenship: A Short Story

y name is Jaber my father name is Robert Kochtebene and my mother name is Kamila Baydem,I was born in all saints hospital in Los Angels my father worked as a Doctor ,my mother was murdered when i was 5 years old in a bank robbery,she worked as a security guard in the bank ,6 years after my mom was murdered my dad quited his job When i growed up a bit my dad decided to take me to a tech store so he can buy for me the new smart phone i was really exited about it,this phone is famous and has a lot of new tool and stuff, tomorrow I wok up earlier and went to my mother security equipement room where she keeps her security guard badge and gun,i found a big book about the Law Enforcement Officers i started reading it, i was really curious i started digging in this book until i found that my mom started making this file about this gang ''Rollin 60 Crips''my mom had some serious evidence about this gang that robbed alot of banks in the city,i found that the leader of this gang Marcus King is the one who enjoys killing security guards that started having suspicious toughts about the robberies,i started crying knowing that my mom got murdered just for amusing a gang member i kept this file under my bed, it's time for to do my own investegation i tought in my head ''what could possibly happens to me ?''

I was born in Northern, New York, about forty miles from the Canadian border in a wasteland of a town called Carthage, sixty miles from the nearest walmart. My mother, now Louise Percy, is ex-navy and worked for the federal government on Fort Drum until she retired ever since I was born. My father, Donald Bishop, was a beauty. He was in and out of prison all his life, including juvenile. He was imprisoned much through my baby-toddler stage and when he wasn’t imprisoned he jumped from construction job to construction job, drinking and smoking marijuana heavily until the day he died, last May 28th. I was born into a household with my mother, father, brother and half-sister for the first few years in my life. My half-sister skipped town after developing a heroin addiction and my father drove my mother psychologically insane until she ended up in a psych ward and we spent a few weeks with my grandmother (father’s mom) until she was released. My mother and father split up and my father never fought for custody nor paid child support. My mother had been a single mom for ten years

I am Brandon Dean Chambers and this is my story. I was born February 3rd, 1997 at Ponca City Hospital in Ponca City, Oklahoma. I was born to the mother of Angela Dawn Adams and father Willard Dean Chambers. My mother had three children at the time, all girls; my dad had two, one boy and one girl (both were grown at time of my birth). I started off living in Ponca for about a year were my dad work as a chef for a country club and I’m not sure what my mom did. Then after that year I moved to Broken Arrow, Oklahoma were I spent about fourteen years of my life.

I used to feel uncomfortable and maybe even a little ashamed talking about myself and my family dynamics. I and use to be a cry baby and the middle child, but the year I turned ten years old, I was bump from middle child to the eldest daughter. I am one of four siblings, I have an older brother that lives in Houston, then it’s me, I have my only sister and my best friend that lives in Irving and then there is my kid brother, he was brought home August of 1988. My parents had left us home for two days. I didn’t have a clue why they were gone but when they finally came home, my dad was hold a 10 pound baby boy.

My name is Ben Evans, I was born in America in 1990, and have spent 18 years living there, I have a brother named James Evans, and my dad's name is Rick Evans, my mother's name is Lily Evans. We lived in a big house in America. We were rich when we're still living in America. My mother worked as a nurse in a hospital and my father worked as a police trafficor. When I was six years old, my mother and father died while they were driving home after a dance they went to. They crashed into a tree. Since that day, I lived with my grandparents untill I was 18 years old. That time I finished my studies and went to Los Santos. After 4 years, my cousin Nick Lesaro, came to Los Santos because he ran away from his house. We lived together in a room at

Although not an intellectual experience in the traditional sense, I learned something new along every step of the way. The fashion of the 60’s and 70’s was just downright tacky. Drywall used now is much thinner than what was used in the 50’s when his house was built. Blow-in insulation is no longer used in modern homes, although fiberglass has remained an important raw material used in insulation. Carpet pads are much higher quality today, but the tack strips used in the 50’s were made more durably. I learned first hand in a way I never could have during a class or extracurricular activity, and this is why this intellectual experience was so rewarding for

Once upon a time in a place similar (100% might be the same world that we live in), lived one man and this man is known as Blank. This is not gonna be like the other origin stories, this one is gonna be so random that you would think that this make no sense. Soon you will realize everything in the story has another meaning so let's get right into the story.

I was 13 last year in central junior high ever since my dad died, i have been not caring and not try every dad i would go through the same judgment people would make fun of me because of they would pick on me and call me name and it would just me me less caring i would not even talk to people. then i started dating someone it felt like i was happy again i could feel emotion again. I would go to her house almost everyday, her father was like a father to me since my stepdad was never around, when she broke up with me I think it brought me down even more I did not know what I needed to do I just dropped farther and farther becoming depressed because I thought I was a failure I just dropped did not do anything disappointing,

Before I came to this life there were family members who had lives. Let’s start with my mother. Her name is Lisa Hansel back then. She told me, when I asked her 20 questions before, she told me what my name stands for her. Because she has Faith in me. Before I was born my mother gave birth to my older brother. Leroy Jr. He was still born, and didn’t make it. Losing a child and then trying again must have been a tough choice. My father’s name is Leroy Curlin. He’s right now at least near his fifties. I’m eighteen; he was in his thirty years old when I was born. Before I was born my parents were together. Either dating, or have a mutual relationship. I didn’t want to know all the facts, for imagination

I was born in the year 1991 in Haiti, I was the first born of a family of five children. The first memory I recall is about my favorite aunt feeding me white rice with carrots when I was about 18 months. After that everything feels like big black hole until before I turned four years old when my fraternal grandmother passed away. I was playing in my crib in my parents room when my dad walked in and announced that his had pass; I was standing and as soon as I heard that I fell on my behind and said "who is going to give me candy" and I started crying. Until today I cannot understand why I reacted like that and what did I understand? After the funeral life went

My name’s Olivia. Some basic things to know about me are that I’m seventeen years old, I have one little brother (his name’s Charlie and he was five, the last time I saw him), I have a mother who was orderly, a neat freak, and put together, an I had father. My father-oh my father, he was strong, handsome, and my protector. He saved my

The sun was shining and the day was warm, yet I felt dark and cold. I've been in this room for so long maybe months, maybe a year, I honestly couldn't tell you; there's no calender in this room. There's not even a couch or a rug or even a place to sit. It just a room with a half lit light bulb flickering, a small window that allows a sliver of light shining through and me, half clothed. I can barley remember the day I went missing, it feels like so long ago. See my mother and I were at the grocery store, and I really had to pee, so mother told me to find someone in a black shirt with the words “NoFrills” written in yellow and ask them to lead me to a bathroom. I couldn't read but I had seen these shirts for years as my mother has always shopped there. I found an older lady wearing the shirt mother had described to me.

Leaving behind things Ive never had is the most difficult conundrum that i have ever gotten myself into. My habit for clinging to fantasies to escape being terrified of my reality is all consuming and has eaten away at my ability to be a whole person. How can one move on from something they never were?

It was Tuesday before noon, when we arrived in San Francisco; the most European of American cities, world renown for scenic beauty, the famous coastal fog and landmarks that include the Golden Gate Bridge, “cable cars that climb half way to the sky”, Fisherman’s Wharf, Alcatraz, Chinatown, Union Square and Mission Dolores, although at the moment, it only represented a spot on earth where we would meet Noke; a family member, a face we recognized, who would welcome us with open arms. We were desperately weary from our travels and looked immensely forward to no longer having to move from place to place.

Something about the way she was so confident. Not afraid to fall. Not afraid to crash. Things the younger me wasn’t able to relate to. She skated by with her violet colored helmet flashing in the corner of my eye. I jumped up, surprised by the sudden movement so close to me. Coming to a stop, she paused to relax her tense body and took a moment to catch her breath. Walking up to her, I introduced myself, eager to seem cool in front of a kid my age who was interesting. Her enthusiasm about meeting me encouraged me to try to befriend her. Attempting to contain her excitement, Jenna introduced me to her parents, immediately taking off outdoors.