Personal Narrative: After We Aren T Worth Remembering

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.

It was late one day in June, and the sky was as blue and clear as sparkling wine. I sat back in my hammock reading the book Unbroken enjoying myself, and my uncle came up and asked me if I wanted to play poker with him, 5$ buy in. I jumped at the idea finished my page and went inside the house. Poker is a pretty big thing in my family and I’ve grown up playing and my uncle was one of the best, so spending time with him playing poker is always one of my favorite things to do. We proceed to set up the table, “Texas Holdem“ he says, Jacks to open”. Nothing weird, so we get the game going and the pots getting pretty big when all of the sudden he drops his cards. I stare the cards dead in the eye and see that i'm going to surpass him! He looks

I come across a rear projection TV on the side of the road one day, load it up, and take it home. I eagerly spend a good four hours stripping it down and saving as much as I can. I end up with a 48” fresnel lens, two hefty speakers, a couple large capacitors, three glass lenses, and a glass mirror. Left over is a box of electronic waste and the particle board skeleton of a TV. I take the electronics to my local electronics recycling center, and set the wooden frame on the curb. I took 70 lbs. of trash and turned it into 10 lbs. of treasure ripe for projects, 30 lbs. of recyclables that would have gone to a landfill, and 30 lbs. of refuse that I had fun

I have lost my grandpa and have not gotten over the idea of it. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandfather was very sick; he could barely walk. While my grandmother and some other family members went uptown for some household things, food, and medication, I was told to take care of him. Yet, I wanted to play with my friends outside. He told me to go ahead and play, but for some reason I just got mad and slammed the door and left. Around nighttime, I seen an ambulance pull up to my grandparents’ house.

I think that my family realized that I had crossed the threshold between childhoods when I began to form my own opinions. This first took hold when I took part in poverty stimulation at my local shelter. I was giving a character and a story behind the card I was given; the story made me become emotionally attached to this name I had been assigned and the family in which I came from. The experience made me question the prejudice of the society I was living in. How many times had I avoided eye contact with the people on the side of the road begging for money? I began a long journey of soul searching and questioning the beliefs my parents had raised me on. My thoughts were continually brought back to a book by C.S Lewis, it was called Out of the Silent Planet; a character named Weston believed that individual human lives don’t matter, they must be sacrificed to save mankind.

There I was on the block next to the High Bar. It was about 5:00 at night when my coach told me to do a Kip. As I got up on the bar my nose filled with the smell of chalk. I started to swing, and as I came out of my half turn I looked good. Everything seemed fine but as I came to the part of the Kip where I have to pull my legs up to the bar, I slammed my shins into the bar. My momentum was stopped and I dropped on to the mat, missing the Kip. I felt like I had let down my coach and I had let down myself too. That day I experienced failure. That failure made me want my Kip even more so I worked harder and had support from my teammates.

“Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.” It’s a saying commonly use in Mexico when someone dies. Death is something that we all know that exist but probably have never stop and give much thought about; how we all want and do not want to die or the reaction, when you hear someone close to you has passed away. I personally have never thought about it, until one day an important part of my life passed away.

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.

The last memories we had with our families was when these men in black killed an outsider for trying to enter the island. We watched the men in black chase after the people in the streets forcing them to go into their houses and watch a man who I had seen before make a statement on television. The man was tense, stiff, and his stature looked forced.

I didn't sleep the next night, for something was missing, something that I have longed for ever since I killed the old man, I know it wasn't the fact that I missed him, but it might have been the adrenaline that I experienced as I killed him, and even after, when I was dismembering his limbs. Was that it? It must have been. I fear that insanity is advancing upon me. I must satisfy my craving for the kill. But with who? It must be someone who won't ever possibly be remembered. Course in this part of town just the littlest thing, like Mrs. Jones breaking her one of a kind Russian doll, will be observed with much care. If I choose to purge upon this town I must work surreptitiously. And that's what I will do.

am beset {long pause} How long will I let the pain and loss define my life? An enduring struggle of loss and gain A monumental achievement through the tangles of deeds But is left alone with silent words

I sat there with my legs crossed for hours. The tingly numbness rose up from my toes to the top of my spine. Hours of nothingness. Hours of staring at a blank sheet of paper. Hours of complete and utter silence. Then, it began. My pencil, which was previously silent, began to speak. The shapes flowed out no real meaning. No sense just movement. I began to move my pencil with brisk movements. Soft and then brisk once more. Switching the colors once, twice, and then again. Shading, blending, redrawing, and repeat. Over and over again as the colors flowed out and told me something that I wasn't expecting, completion.

Our invisibility is the essence of oppression and until we eliminate that invisibility, people are g pingto be able to perpetuate the lies and myths. You may have lost your way temporarily but do not lose sight of what matters You are confined only by the walls you build yourself Surrender The past haunted me, the present despised me and my future was unheard of.The nal smile he gave me, was laced with pain, which tore my heart into amillion pieces. Conned and neglected, the hollow pain ached inside me, withthe constant articial smile plastered on my pallid face. An aura of greysurrounded the bland bricks imprisoned me, with my back stooped over as if Iwas carrying invisible weights upon them. My only outlet was the dust

“Are we there yet”I said as we just left Seymour and there I knew that we were trapped in the car for a long time in fact like 2 hours. I was a bright summer day and today my family was all up early packing and getting in the car because we still had to pick up my brothers friends so as we left the driveway my family and I kept bouncing up and down from the end of the driveway as we left and there I knew that today was the day where it was time to go to six flags.When we finally had everyone in the car and we were off to six flags.The first city we passed was Appleton and that's when we just watched the cars go by the car we were driving in and all of us got kinda car sick and it was bad we all had headaches before you knew it everyone of us

The first time I experienced a major emotional breakdown was in my sophomore year of high school. I had struggled with issues such as ADD and anxiety in the past, but they hit me the hardest during the first semester of that year. Despite my best efforts, I simply could not bring myself to turn in any work. I felt that all of my assignments were subpar, and that turning them in would simply waste my teachers’ time. However, the assignments I struggled with the most were those that were timed. I felt pressured to make everything look perfect, but lacked the time necessary to do so. Toward the end of the first semester, I was required to write a time bound benchmark essay in my English class. As English was my seventh period, I spent the entire day leading up to the class