Personal Narrative: Almost Homeless

As a child, I grew up many places, my dad’s old job moved us around a lot. I was born in Hayward, Ca. and moved to Red Bluff as a baby and stayed until I was like 5 or 6. Then I moved to Taylor, Arizona and lived there until I was 8. I moved to The Dalles, Oregon and turned 9 shortly after, we lived at the very top of Oregon, right next to the Washington border. I could see Washington driving down certain streets, but by the time I was 10 I had been somewhat homeless. I lived in a car with my 3 other siblings and parents for a month or so. It wasn’t like it was horrible, we never slept in the car. We stopped at motels and we drove highway 101, because we were struggling and the beach solves everything.

Honestly the most important aspect of growing up homeless was the determination my mother impressed upon me at a very early age. From as early as I can remember my family has struggled to get by in life. My mother worked two jobs to support my siblings and me. There were never nights we went hungry thanks to my mother who would sometimes be forced to sacrifice her last to put food on the table only to starve herself until the next meal.

Living in poor conditions was never easy when I was young. My dad worked in a coal mine to support mom, myself and my six sisters.

There’s no need for a rubbish introduction to start with. I hate my bus, full stop. No strings attached. To be totally honest, there are no positives at all in this presentation. So if you are one of those people who think that there is a good in everything, I suggest that you stop reading this and continue with your life. Goodbye!

Everytime I step out of my apartment I have to be cautious of the trash. It's piled up over the years even in the cities. I walk the packed city streets littered with homeless people it's been this way for sometime now. They are starving on the streets the police have to monitor them to clean up any dead bodies on the sidewalks. It's almost never sunny here the city has been covered by a thick cloud of smog that seems as if it will never go away. The streets are also lined with huge skyscrapers built for the people the government forced to move here. I hate them they are all the same grey cookie cutter buildings no distinction between them. I’m coming home from the food warehouse people are given two meals a day for a month every month. We

:In 2018, being a foreign corespondent has become a ruthless job due to war and poor economic stability across the world, yet it’s still a rewarding career that pays good money and lets you and other people see the world with their own set of eyes, so the real question is how will I do this ruthless but rewarding job well, I will do it by taking footage on the ground or taking photos of the battle or what I am seeing with my eyes on the field. But also I will most defiantly make sure that I am unbiased on the field and treat the audience and the footage with unbiased accuracy and determination no cherry picking out little things that I don't like to show the audience. and so that the people that I am on their side

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

with our bloods, and bundled it under the sink. Then in the dim light from 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

I scratched at my forearms, itching for another fix. The light from my phone illuminated my face as I checked my text messages from my dealer, hoping soon he would be at the meeting place, cause I was cold. The wind whipped at my face as I walked up to the abandoned hotel where I was told to meet. The hotel had been standing alone for almost a hundred years now and was completely deserted other than occasional junkie or homeless person that milled about. People in this town barely even knew it was here anymore, everyone had moved on into a more industrial age and forgot about the history hiding in the shadows. The door creaked loudly as I opened it, the sound echoing through the pitch black halls. I switched on the flashlight on my phone and

Last month an article popped up on my newsfeed declaring that homelessness is on the decline! Waking up to my coffee in my warm suburban home, I felt the waves of relief washing over me. “Ah, another thing I don’t have to worry about today,” my guilt alleviated as I adjusted my thermostat on that unseasonably cold March day. But in a society in which we consume news 140 characters at a time and scroll rapidly past the latest sensational headlines, pronouncements such as this should be worrisome.

In the last two years, I have volunteered to help feed the homeless on several occasions. I have also donated to the less fortunate in Mexico. My extracurricular activities included tutoring others in the area of mathematics, also I have recently joined the STEM Academy. Furthermore, I am looking into joining the Engineering Club. My work experience is mainly with computers both OS X and Windows; I have worked with programs such as AutoCAD 2016, Microsoft Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and Photoshop

When I was 10 years old me and my family went on a road trip.We were going 90mph until Boom we hit a deer.Our car flipped and my parents flew out and hit there heads on a tree and died.Now I’m 17 and getting bullied at school.

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.