Personal Narrative: Being Raid By A Single Father

Elyar, my best friend had just told me ,Ricky, was now gonna tell the principal what I done. It didn't occur to me this was going to happen when I punched his brother ,Duke . Oh, God my dad is gonna kill me. His brother told me my sister, Sanai looked like a flat tire. I was so protective over my sister I couldn't take it. But, maybe I would be off the hook with my dad because I was defending her. Sanai most of the time thought I was her police because I would stick up for her. But, because dad was working 12 and a half hours each day it was my job to protect her. Next year when im in middle school she wont have

Growing up in a household full of girls with a single mother, I learned how to be strong and independent. My mother was never really the type of mother to be affectionate, she had more of a tough love point of view. I was always expected to get the best grades I could possibly have along with being focused and determined to go to college which most of my family did not do. My mother taught me how to always be respectful and have good manners especially when it came to other adults. From the age of 5, I was doing chores in the house, and setting goals for my future.

Growing up as a little girl with a full time dad was always interesting. I was always my daddy’s little girl, or as he calls me “Lil Dawg”. He was like my side kick, Best friend, and the best dad a little girl could ask for. My father was really the only family I have ever known, from having a mother who did not care and a family who was hurtful in every way possible. My father was the only one there to wipe away my tears, to kiss my “boo-boos” when I fell, and the only one to show he loved me. I never had the life most young girls had.. I never really did the whole shopping, getting my nails done, or playing with make-up. I did the every weekend at the race track watching my dad race, as well as being known as the girl who rode dirt bikes, and played with the boys. I didn’t mind though as long as I was with my dad there was never a dull moment. My dad is a very tall man with pretty blue eyes just like mine, and as most people called him “my twin”. People often ask “what do your parents look like?” My response was always “Picture me with short hair”, because I am a smitten image of my father. I was always so appreciative of what he did, because I know he tried his best to play both roles. Despite the fact of wondering what a life with a mother would be like, Life with my dad was perfect, because that’s all I have ever known. Never did I think that my life could be transformed from perfect to a disaster….

Growing up I didn't have a lot of time to read, I did not grow up in a stable environment for children to thrive. When I was in the third grade my life would take a drastic turn into a downward direction. My mother whom I loved so much changed drastically, started locking us out of the house. Doing any type of homework was impossible to accomplish when you are stranded outside. Later that year my parents got a divorce. There was constant turmoil; my mother was now living with a man that would later become my stepfather. Their relationship was very toxic; at first my stepfather seemed charming, we traveled to places we have never been to before. After a couple of years, things changed, they couldn't manage their finances and we were constantly

My mother became depressed, my father became disabled, and my brother was skipping school. I continued going to school from eight until four, which was a big relief in my life because it made me forget the hard times. My grades slowly began to decline, as well as my motivation. I gave up many opportunities such as attending New York’s number one specialized high school. I recognized my mistakes and was able to identify my failure. School was not the only place where I lacked interest in because I also slowly started to push my friends away. As a young teenager, I did not think I would ever make it to college. I became frustrated at my parents because my life was ruined and it was all their fault.

I’m going to start from the beginning. Until I was 3 years old, I lived with my mom in an apartment building. My dad, on the other hand, didn’t officially come into my life until the time I was taken away from my mom. Throughout

My parents were uneducated and never attend college. My father didn’t graduate high school he dropped out at the age of sixteen. He worked full time. My parents got married at the age of nineteen. Which was very young. My mom had her first child, at the age of eighteen which was with my oldest sister Rashel.

As a child, I was quiet and withdrawn. I taught myself to read when I was three, and spent most of my time reading instead of playing with other children. I understood very early that I was different from others at school. I didn’t have to pay for lunch, something I found (and to be honest, still find) completely mortifying. My father was almost never home, always trucking all over the country in an effort to keep our family afloat. When other kids talked about their dads in school, I often found myself feeling jealous. I, too, wanted a dad who could teach me how to ride a bike or throw a ball. I also understood that it was impossible for me to have that, because my father worked around the clock to keep my family from going hungry. I realized that in order to achieve the things that I wanted to, i would have to take the initiative and do it myself. I borrowed my sister’s bike (although it was much too tall for me to use comfortably), and I practiced riding it until i knew i was better at it than any other 7 year

As, we settled in Palatine, without a father in my life, I basically became a father and a caregiver to my brother and sister. Many days and nights, my Mother, had to go out and run some errands, there would never be anyone to babysit my siblings especially since money is so tight. I would be the one watching them, many times it could be for hours and other times it could be all day. They would often have seizures, which I learned how to take care of and learned how to distribute the emergency medication. Often, I would have to come home from school or practice and help make dinner, clean the house, or help get my brother and sister ready for bed. After doing all of these chores to help my Mother out , and i would still be able to crank out my homework, and still manage to get great grades, because I knew the importance of them. This has always been a stressful situation in my life. My life has made me a better person, everything has matured me, and made me a better person. All of this is a part of my identity/background , it's made me who I am, and prepared me for the life. I'm not the normal football jock, this is my

Despite the love and support of my family, I did succumb to making poor choices. I started hanging with the wrong group of friends, caring less about school, doing things the Lizmery now wouldn’t do. My perspective changed when I entered high school. I noticed how much of a rebel I had been with my family. I understood then, all the things that my mother had done and sacrificed to give my sister and me the world. I saw my sister earn her master's degree and buy a house. As the youngest, I had great role models in front of me. I knew that what I did in the next four years had to be drastic. I had to step outside of my comfort zone, leave the negative friends behind, and take my education

Like many little girls, I grew up worshiping my dad. A small shy girl, hiding behind him, using him as my protection from the world, by his side every possible chance. I wanted to be whoever he wanted to be, wanted to do everything he wanted me to do. I did everything to make my dad proud of me, for years, trying to do my best in everything…all for him, yet somehow, it was never enough. The summer going into my sophomore year, when my dad was, as he usually was, drunk, told me that he was ashamed to have me as a daughter. This was the ultimate turning point that marked my transition from childhood into adulthood.

My milestones of learning how to talk, use the toilet, walk, etc. was all learned and achieved and the right age. My grandma was the main one teaching me all these things. Both of my parents were full time workers. My dad was a chef, he would work very long hours; sometimes I would only remember seeing him at 2 in the morning, thats if I even woke up to hearing him open the garage. My mom was, and still is, a beautician, working in Boca Raton, at The Beauty Spot- a nail salon. She would work every Tuesday through Saturday from as early as 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. It was “rare” to be with both my parents at the same time. But apparently, even with their busy work schedules and raising me, they found time to make baby number two (yuck).

When I was growing up you could say that I had a pretty normal childhood,we did all of those normal family things. I never thought in a million years that with all of that fun anything was wrong with our family or that something would happen to us. At this point in life my parents always said that if I tried hard enough I could do anything I wanted to do, so I actually cared about school. But when I ended fifth grade my dad moved out of my mom's house simply because of problems they had within their relationship. For weeks and months to come I blamed myself for not being a good enough child or student and that is why my parents were no longer together.

He was astonished that he had yet another power. He wondered what else there was to come. Emilio was excited. He felt that energy around him swarm all of his senses, it was a very empowering feeling. It was something Emilio had never felt before. Emilio had always been stepped on and put down, this was the first time he stood up and fought back without being hurt and getting away with it. The memories of being hurt and humiliated on many levels started to swarm him, he just stood there, motionless. He stared into what he thought was real life, was really just memories. Memories of the most brutal moments in his life, his father, Joey, other kids at school, and even little things that put him over the top.

My parents divorced when I was five, so I was raised in a single parent home by my mother. My aunt and mother both instilled in me what it means to be a strong, independent, God fearing woman. From the time I was born I attended church regularly, praise dancing and singing in the choir. Being able to touch someone while ministering the word of God is one of the greatest privliges I’ve had.