Personal Narrative: A Hate Relationship

Of course the norm for me is that of any citizen living in zone three.

Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?

“I am petrified. I feel as if God has abandoned me. I just sat there and watched, quietly, because I had no idea what to do. As if these kind of things are normal for a 10 year old boy to witness. Everyone tells me that “it wasn’t your fault” or that “there was nothing you could have done.” I think I believe them… but the haunting images of my 16 year old brother being beaten to death tell me otherwise. The memories tell me I should have done something to save him. But I didn’t. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what happened to my best friend and my brother.”

I hate when people mess with me by irritating or annoying me. Also I hate being talked about me behind my back too. It bothers me so much that I can probably be mad, and upset for a whole day and not say anything to anybody. However, I do not do that a lot I just keep moving forward on what I have to do. I do this because I would not get myself into trouble by fighting or calling names, but instead I’ll try to be as positive as I can be.

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

Sorry in advance if this is be too much information for some. . . .

There was a time when I was young, innocent, stupid, and a scaredy cat. This happened when I was about 9 years old, when the world consisted of cartoons, school, and lots of sugar. My brother on the other hand preferred stuffed animals and dolls, and he had this one stuffed doll that looked like a farmer that wore a blue overall and had orange hair. I and my brother shared a room and he would always align all his stuff animals and dolls in an orderly fashion on the desk where they all were pointed towards us, when we were asleep.

I was six, I knew that we couldn’t stay one place forever. That concept was foreign. Every few years my family and I were stationed to a new place, this time 45 minutes away. Of course, being the stubborn and impatient six year old I was, that seemed a light year away. I have never had friends that lasted over 3 years. Either they left, or I moved. This time, I left first. My friends were my world. I was happy. They were devastated to get the news of my departure. Tears were mixed with the “goodbyes”, and the occasional “I’ll never forget you”.

June 11, 2019; a very dark Wednesday, but also Marissa Fisher’s birthday. As we paraded throughout the halls of Fyvie High School singing “Happy Birthday” to her , then all of a sudden the announcements came on, and we heard our secretary, Ms. Marinate, scream a bloodcurdling cry. She cried out and put the school on lockdown under code red. All at once, the lights in the school turned a soft, faint reddish color, so we ducked into a deserted classroom in the south wing. There we found cover from the gunshots we heard outside. It sounded as if it was coming from somewhere in the west wing.

She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, squinting in the direction the crawlers were apparently approaching from, but couldn’t find any sign of movement of all. Not so much as a blade of grass in the wind. Jack shoved her shirt into the back pocket of her jeans anyway, occupying her hands with the battered wood of her bat instead. It would break any day now. “Nah, I’m serious. Ya gotta lay off them damn crazy pills, Dom."

When I was younger, I had a lot of trouble talking to people. I was shy, the kind of shy that brought books to bible school classes and read them underneath of desks just to avoid socializing. People were scary, I did not know to interact with them. So I turned to spending a lot of time working with and researching animals. When I was in 3rd grade my neighbor gave me a key to his dog kennel so I could play with his puppies. I remember walking up to his house every day after school for an hour or two that year. In tenth grade, I started fostering parrots.

You've probably heard of a message in a bottle, but have you ever heard of the "Devils Message"? Probably not because it was a ridiculous game my brother, sister, and I came up with when we were bored. We played this game only a couple times but only when my cousin Maxx came to visit did we decide to record ourselves in the event that something funny would happen. The day started just like any other normal fall day. My cousin Maxx was visiting from Johnstown so we were looking for something to do. All of a sudden Joe got the bright idea to show Maxx Devils Message. We all got dressed and headed out for the swing set.

At a young age I was thought by my parents to ignore people who constantly make fun of me. Back to my younger days, I was always teased by my classmates and continually get called “China.” People were stereotyping and I was being labeled down because I was Asian. Students used to think I was very smart, some were even making fun of me because of my accent and how I speak. Last but not least was all Asians were considered “Chinese”

I know some of You’ll be hating And That give Me Motivation Much love to all my haters I been dealing with stress With a smile on my Face Growing up with no Man as a rolled Model Make me do Things on my Own

Playing on the playground as a child, I always caught myself deep in thought with a strong desire for what others had and for what I lacked. Watching the girls run by with their new light up shoes, seeing the boys chase the popular girls around, and peeking at the test across the table in envy of the higher grade. As I pondered the differences that I shared with others, I began to realize I was causing unnecessary jealousy and sadness. As the years progressed, I came to the realization that there would always be a more pleasing hue of green on the other side.