My Body-Personal Narrative

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! There was a knock the door late at night. There was a letter, it was from the manager at the sunny slope apartments. The next morning we opened the letter. It said we were getting evicted. We didn’t know why. But we knew what it meant, we had to move! We were so worried, because we didn’t know where we could move or even worst of all we didn’t know if we were going to have to move a different school. I had been at that school my whole life, and known all of my friends there.

“That was the first time I wrestled him,” Miller said. “I beat the snot out of him, really bad. He was shocked. Afterward he was freaking out. He was like, ‘That’s the worst I’ve ever been beat.’”

He started to catch up to me, and eventually picked me up again. “Let me go you d*ck.” “Can you stop screaming for two minutes and let me explain.” “You need water and food before you go on a long journey.” You don’t get it do you huh. I started to tear up realizing that if I try and attack him again, I was not going to get anywhere. His forehead was getting redder and redder each time I looked at him. “My nephew is all alone with my friends and they have no way to defend themselves at our camp. I need to be back there. I can not leave

He attempted to shake his head and I wanted nothing more that to pop his beady head off and kill the bastard right then and there. There was a rule of thumb in the joint and that was to keep your hands to yourself and keep your hands off someone else's shit.

Right away he starts to swing at me before I get a chance to so I start dodging his punches but then he throws a real swing at me right to the ribs that’s when I got mad he’s still swinging got me again in the ribs but the other side side at this point

Scanlan could have and should have shut the mine down! When he continued to get there run around form his superiors. “Scanlan repeatedly told state officials and mine owners of the dangers to safety in the mine and pleaded for corrective action. Unfortunately, his efforts were ignored. Scanlan’s experience reminds us of the futility of being a single warning voice in a highly politicized system” (Hartley & Kenney, 2006). Although he had the authority to take matters into his own hands but he did not. I don’t know if this was out of fear that he would lose his job but as a public official it was his job to protect the people and he did not.

Jude Yusuf is going to kill me. I know it. He knows it. The entire wrestling team even knows it. That’s why out of all the other wrestlers he chose me. Spleen-less, gallbladder-less, defenseless, scared shitless me. It started when I walked in late to practice from my T.R.U.S.T meeting.

Biting my lip, blood spills in my mouth from trying to contain my rage. He just wants a reaction, nothing more. He just wants to get under my skin.

My name was announced. The silence in the room allowed me to hear the judges’ pens scratch through my concise, four- letter name. With my baggy blue button- down, and all black dress- pants on, I proceeded down the auditorium aisle and onto the stage. Even though the crowd consisted of only around 30 uninterested students who purposefully displayed their lack of care, I still felt a pressing audience. Turning to my public- speaking teacher, I acknowledged the “you-may-begin” nod and turned back to the crowd, realizing what I had gotten myself into.

Before I can begin to plead again, a big, course, calloused hand covers my mouth, a muscled arm bands around my middle, and then I’m lifted off the ground, and hauled away. My screams stifled, my struggles futile.

“You like being insulted and dominated, you dumb bitch!” I yell. “You are the kind of guy that would let me slit his throat without a damn fight...” I smile. “Actually, maybe I SHOULD slit your throat and eat that fucker alive right in front of your eyes so for once in your goddamn life, you'd know what it's like to feel as powerless as I do every damn day since the incident!” I throw the baseball bat against the wall, frightening two or three unkillable spiders out of their fissure.

On Thursday, August 5, 2010, A collapse of one of the shafts in the Chilean copper mine left 33 workers trapped approximately 300 meters underground. At once, rescue efforts began but just two days later another collapse in the mine halted the efforts of the rescue

"Stop!" He shouts before tugging on my arm to stop and face him. He looks angry now. (-- removed HTML --)

The San José Mine was more than 100 years old, and a century of “digging and blasting” had all but worn away its internal structure. The mine was known for “primitive working conditions and perfunctory safety practices", including escape tunnels that were “useless in an emergency because they

This was the third time I had woken up paralyzed. The first time was the most pleasant. I opened my eyes but my movement stopped there. I could see nothing but the ceiling. I could hear nothing but the birds chirping from my window. I could feel nothing but the bed against by back and the covers over my chest. This lasted about 5 minutes. The next morning was different. This time, I felt pressure on my left leg. The floor around me creaked periodically. I noticed brief flashes in my peripheral vision. It was at this moment where I realized I wasn’t alone. Someone or something was walking about my room as if surveying my paralyzed body. Whatever the thing was, it was gone by the time I could move again. This time it had lasted 15 minutes.