Homeless Day-Personal Narrative

We talked for a while before we left to go to the fair. When we arrived at the fair we grinned like fools. I looked around at all of the bright and colorful lights that wrapped the rides in a blanket of warmth. We went to the first ticket booth we saw and bought a bunch of tickets. We thanked the sweet old woman that we bought the tickets from and went to look around at all the rides we would ride on.

“Ok well let’s go” He said. He walked to the door and walked out so I followed him to his car. We left Adym’s house and went out to eat at Olive Garden. When we got to the restaurant we went inside and ordered what we wanted to eat. So we ate and while we were eating we caught up in what has been happening in life since we live in totally different states but we live close to each other. I live in Michigan and he lives in Ohio.

As a kid, I never really paid attention to what blessings were, in fact, it didn't even cross my mind. I grew up in a small house, with my parents and my sister. We loved to walk around a lot and most of the time we would come across homeless people. It was like a routine of ours that we would always give back to the people less fortunate. I remember as I was walking one day with my mom, we came across an old homeless lady and my mom gave her 20 dollars. We were lucky enough to have that much change left after shopping for food and we decided it would be kind to give it to someone else, but this lady was very different from most homeless people. She had bright neon pink nails, gray hair that would create an ombré effect almost as if she got it done, she took the money we gave

It was a bright and sunny day in Downtown Iowa City. I limped my sore, broken down body between the alleys, craving the shade of buildings to get some time out of the beating hot sun. I can sense the wondering eyes of many people immediately lock into mine as I walk onto the busy sidewalk. I get paranoid and overwhelmed thinking of everything people could potentially be thinking about me. I have never been the type to care of what others think of me. That is only until I made my ways to becoming homeless. ¨You are just a druggie who can’t keep a job,¨ many have shouted at me. Funny thing is they don’t know is why I am even here in the first place. I ran away when I was 16. My Dad abused my Mom, two little sisters and Me. I’ve been

At one point, while my sister was driving, a few people on the interstate wouldn’t let her get in the lane she needed to be in to reach the exit, luckily we still managed to squeeze in, so we didn’t end up being late to the

I'm a African-American boy named Marlon and I'm homeless. I walked from Chicago to Cleveland, Ohio. Then I encountered the garden, the Seedfolk garden, that everyone was talking about here was food that can I eat for a year or two.I tried to steal the food but someone approached me and I ran with some food he said “hey you!, I keep running to safety he chase me down I ran faster and food was dropping off me. I got caught and he said “why are you stealing are food” I said “get off of me!’’ he didn’t mean no harm. Then, I saw hundreds of people in the horizon I was shocked I was silent as the sky the man put me down and he said look at them they all used to be like you now they're all a family. I said wow soo much people. Finally, someone

I woke up before the sun did. Sitting up in my bed, I sat motionless for a moment as the dim light of early dawn began to illuminate my room. Finally, I got up, heading over to the sink to get myself a glass of water. After extinguishing my thirst, I took a quick glance out my window, seeing the sun barely showing itself just beyond. It was about time to get ready for work. I grabbed my toolbox and loaded it with a small granola bar and a bottle with a bit of whiskey still left inside. I grabbed my light-gray collared shirt, my overalls, and a pair of ruffled pants. I picked up my black shoes and grabbed my hat off the coat hanger at the door. I turned the doorknob of my room and stepped into the hallway, locking the door behind me. As I headed

A new waiter approach us asking how we are and if we’re ready to eat. I didn’t have much time to look at our menu, but Eli decides to order for us.

I couldn't pass up this opportunity to get some free food, so I said I would. After school we met at my locker to go to my car. There were still no thoughts of doing anything but going to Walmart.

A few moments later, we both settled down and it brought comfortable silence between the two of us. She told me you have been here for quite some time" I eventually said to carry on the conversation.

Saturday Morning, I’m in my house and I’ve already spent my last ten cents on a newspaper, just to find myself a job. My house is three by three metres, has a broken bed, a small fan but you've gotta kick it a few times before it works. And there used to be a really old CRT TV until some hood rat stole it from us. My house is made up of damaged cobble bricks and the wood is from trees that I cut down over the years. I live in a derelict town called Henderson, and its pretty much a slum, just like in third world countries. There are impoverished people living here, trying to make an honest living and then theres the troublemaking underworld who make their lives by ruining others. They run the drugs to make a quick buck. Why am I part of this

I am a young boy homeless boy living in Isis I have no money,food or family my parents left me at a young age. I can't seem to find anywhere nice to start a life all I have is my bench to sleep on and my diary to write in.

We made it to LA. Me and Madi were both hungry. Mads turned to me and stopped right in front of me. Halting any more movement and almost tripping me. She started talking.

My friends often describe me as a cynic and a pessimist. For the most part, they're right. Sentiment loses value when it permeates one's attitudes and behavior just as the value of a commodity decreases as it becomes ubiquitous, so as a rule I reserve expressing sentiment for rare occasions that I deem worthy. Fortunately, even the harshest cynics are surprised sometimes.

For hours we went on about the worst and best books, movie plot twists, and awkward scenarios in our lives. We talked about social and stress difficulties from being high school and the freedom of having endless days to ourselves