Personal Narrative: After Tom's Death

I wait at the door. I put on my solemn, grim face, I cannot let these children see me as a soft women. I am anything but that, well I guess I am, but we all need to hide our inner emotions some how. My useless husband, Hans, mumbles, “I see the car”. We step outside, most people think Hans and I are crazy for opening our home to these two children, but every little bit of money that we can earn helps. Plus, they can help with the laundry, I think and smile.

Tommy Read came in today and he was mad. He wanted to but a pack of air-o-cells, but his card did not go through. I called Kathleen Squares, and tried to get her to run the card, but it did not go through again. I managed to get another card from him, and he was finally able to pay for his order. Obviously, he was very irritated when he left the lab. He said that he would call Sheryl (his sales rep) because of what happened today. I let him know that it was fine to do that. Thirty minutes later Sheryl calls saying that Tommy was complaining about us. I clarified the situation, and she said that from now on he would call her, and she would process his air-o-cell orders. She will then send us an email to let us know that he is picking

*disclaimer: bare with me... the next 5 chapters are crap because i wrote them over a year ago...chapter 19 will be the start of some great shit*

Tom’s parents, George and Bessie Black Bull raised him in the old ways. They taught him the old ways and everything they did in the old days.

The guy pulled out a gun, and looked at him and said, “I’m not playing. It’s either your money or your life.” Jack froze as he looked at the barrel of that gun.” The mugger begin to get angry, he said, “didn’t you hear what I said, what are you waiting for. For the last time, as he shoved the gun closer to his head, it’s your money or your life.” Jack said, “well I’m thinking about which one I want to give up.”

On 09/12/2016, I Deputy Daniel Pruitt was dispatched to 52455 West Highway 16 for an unattended death compliant. I arrived on scene st 6:45pm and meet with Creek County EMS unit 40.

I never expected anyone to be this heartbroken over my death. Here I was 15 year old boy named Andy Hollows. My death was tragic, Leukemia is never easy to deal with. I was currently watching my mom wrap Christmas presents for my younger sibling. This is their first Christmas without me and I wasn’t too happy with my dad acting like a Grinch this time of the year in this exact situation. Lord knows my mom did not need it, nobody did in fact they were depressed, heartbroken, lost, and dull. I was always the one to cheer them up when they were sad, help Mom decorate for christmas, and help my younger sister, Ann pick out a ugly Christmas sweater to wear. I was interrupted out of my dark and useless thoughts by the door bell ringing.

The clouds were black, immeasurable, and grotesque. I still believe it was because my best friend was leaving for war. My friend Nicholas was the only person that I could have reliance and certainty with. He was the person that when the stresses of the world got to heavy on my shoulders he would pick the world up of my shoulders and carry the burden of the stresses of reality for me. In the end there are no words to describe the signification he has in my life and there is no comfort that can fix the loss that I feel in my heart because of his absence. So for the time being my heart will be in two places, half with me here in Denver, Colorado and the other half in Kandahar, Afghanistan.

The leather feels cold under my fingertips as I sit on our living room couch. My feet are propped up on the small coffee table, banging together lightly in boredom. Mom sits with me, our shoulders barely touching. It's only been twelve hours since I found Laura in the alley and the police already want to put us into protective custody. I don't want to go, but there is nothing tying me here anymore. Laura's gone.

I won't be disappointed anymore. The utter bitterness taste of a loss. Set me back centuries from mental state, but by repeating the same mistakes at the same tournament. It was my sophomore year i was on the wrestling team. the heat immense in my warm up gear as i drilled moves with my partner deeandre. It was the biggest tournament in my eyes. It was junior varsity conference tournament held at new trier high school a school we despised for reasons I didn't even know. But that didn't matter at the time it was time for me to win this baby, win the whole thing, bring a trophy home,a medal, something I told myself. It was held in a gym 3 mats, three score tables and referees. each table would go by a weight class and call your name. this was

I can’t believe that I’m standing here ringing the doorbell of a woman that I just met. I probably seem like a stalker to her when all I want to do is return her wallet. And then a young man answers the door. It’s probably her husband or boyfriend, which makes this moment even worse. I hope that he doesn’t come back with a gun or punch me in the face. I’ve already been down that road and really don’t feel like getting into it today. But I knew that if I didn’t take the step to return the wallet, she would be going insane as to where she left it. I knew that much because I’ve been with enough women to know that when they lose anything of value, especially a purse, they go crazy just looking for it.

On March of 2015 my godfather died from a heart attack, that was the second death that had occurred in less than an year around my family in the United States. My mother is from Honduras which is currently one of the most dangerous countries in the world, at least once every four months she gets call that someone she knew has be killed over there. The belief/religion that I was born into was christian-catholic, but that was immediate challenge once my godfather died.

Jimmy wasted no time in setting up the arena for our duel. Our classmates couldn’t help but watch the showdown that was about to go down between the two manliest men in the room. Names were chanted as a fairly large crowd began to huddle around our table. The cheering multiplied my confidence levels tenfold as I settled myself into the inevitable fate that was bound from day one. I’ve seen Jimmy arm-wrestle before. He was the type of guy to bend your wrist, and no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to overcome his cheap tactics. Before the match even began, Jimmy made like a snake around my wrist and was already in the process of winning the match. I wasn’t having any of that. I made sure to kindly let him know that I was aware

I’m a ball of sexual tense need. He stares down at me for a moment, measuring my need, then he grabs me suddenly and flips me over. It takes me by surprise, and because my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. He pushes both my knees up the bed so my behind is in the air, and he slaps me hard. Before I can react, he plunges inside me. I cry out-from the slap and from his sudden assault, and I come instantly again and again, falling apart beneath him as he continues to slam deliciously into me. He doesn’t stop. I’m spent. I can’t take this…and he pounds on and on and on…then I’m building again…surely not…no…

My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.