Personal Narrative: Death Of A Child

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 spent most of the morning stuck in my thoughts, why was I not grieving my parent's death? Why had I never noticed I was supernatural? Dominating most of my thoughts, did I have feelings for Jordan, my brother's best friend?

“ahhhhhh! ” I heard a scream as i ran downstairs, my eyes began to tremble as i cried “ mom , Dad!” my hands began shaking as i walked up to the men in the mysterious mask. I asked the man “ you did this!” as I screamed “ I will kill you bastard!” I went in for a punch he blocked me and cut my hand, as blood flowed from my hands i screamed “ Ahhhhhhhhhh!” The men handed me the knife and he jumped out of the window. “ Mom, Dad are you okay?” I asked them, “ the diamond dragon!” said Mom. A cold wind blew out of the window, my Mom’s head dropped to the ground, and that was all I remembered. I was only 17, my little sister who was 4 at the time didn't know anything that happened. I was blamed for my parents murder. They took away the only thing

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.

I remember the day like the back of my hand. The day my own husband took a knife

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

A woman name Angela Hundley and her family were away on a family vacation in the Dominican Republic. While there Angela ate fish that caused her to become very ill. Two weeks after they returned home from their vacation she was diagnosed with ciguatera poisoning. She could not open her eyes or lift her head. The doctor informed the family that the poisoning was untreatable, and an incurable. Angela felt like she was in a comma, she couldn’t move but she could hear everything. She could hear her children playing but she couldn’t play with them. She remembers her husband taking her to her church for prayer and at the alter she recalls her pastor asking her “Angela have you thanked God through any of this, even if you don’t see another day,

Five days had passed this time since anyone had heard from my mother. I remember praying to God to protect her from harm and for me to find her. The next day she showed up, but not in the way we had hoped. One morning as I was getting ready for school my sophomore year in high school, my phone rang to the voice of my stepfather. My stepfather had told me he heard a call come over the dispatch scanner at his work and my mother’s name was mentioned. The sheriff had informed my stepfather that my mother had been involved in an accident. My stepfather asked me to go to the emergency room and see what condition my mother was in because he lived a half hour away from the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital I found my mother cut out of her clothes, covered in her own urine, massive amounts of blood all over her body, and lying lifeless on life support on the table. At this point, no one knew whether my mother would be okay. My mother had bleeding on the brain as well as a tear in her shoulder, a shattered face, and a chest tube draining fluid from her lung which had collapsed. All I could do was pray! My mother’s life was in God’s hands now. Three days later she woke

I have collected these items not only as evidence for my parents death but to help me believe that it was all real that I was being suspected for their murder. The caution tape and the eyeglass was the materials that I found in my dead parents room before I was escorted to the living room.The Avery fisher hall headliner poster, the last time I could have a nice family moment before chaos with the police tore my family apart.Morris Sampson my first suspect besides my own siblings that could have a motive of murdering my parents due to hate for my mother and writing his opinions into a worst excuse of a book. The pills and the shot to declare the last time I'd ever forgotten to take my vitamins and let it into my system ever again .The airplane

After many hours of collecting my cousin’s belongings and visiting with his grieving widow and children the day finally came to an end at around 12 midnight. As those of us who came to offer our support began to gather our things to leave and head back towards our respective homes my aunt turned to my uncle and said “Hon . . . will you please pray?” What happened next will reverberate in my ears forever as long as I live I will never forget the words I heard that night. My uncle began with “Father I thank you for this day . . .” His words shattered the silence like a clap of thunder angrily streaking across the darkened skies of night. All at once I had been jerked violently out of my dazed stupor brought on by lack of sleep and emotional rollercoaster of the events of the day. My head no longer bowed and my eyes burned with anger at this man who was thanking God for this day. Did he not know that the very God he was thanking had taken his first born son violently in an instant away from him? I was incredulous that he was too dumb to know that today of all days he should be mad at God not thanking him . . . what was wrong with this guy? To this day I cannot recall what he said after he thanked God, but I remember driving home and obsessively pouring over his words . . . “Father I thank you for this day.” Even though I did not know it at the time God had used that simple prayer to penetrate my hardened heart and

By the time I returned home safe, something miraculous had happened. I still have no recollection of any traumatic incident from my first journey away from the safety of “home.” I never knew until recently that my parents were worried to death. I only have memories of my family going to church, living a Christian life, and my parents active involvement in our home church. God worked in my parents hearts, orchestrating His will with the innocence of a child. Maybe they realized that only God the all-knowing, all-powerful Creator can protect and bless, “He giveth and taketh away (Job 1:21)… All good things are a gift from God (James 1:17).” I don’t know what exactly happened that day, but I do know this one fact. A child named Danielle with enthusiasm and passion to know God, changed a family forever. I attended Beth Eden Baptist School during my later elementary years, I was blessed to be home-schooled by my mother and father in junior High, and attended Maranatha Christian for High School, graduating in 1989. My life has been filled with exceptional events, joy, heartache, surprises, pain, loss, and miraculous

“Wake up,” Josie Said to me as she pulled the comforter off of my bed.

The next ten years were a blessing. Everything was perfect and everything made sense. My grandmother’s illness led her to come to know God and, as a result, the entire family was introduced to Christianity. The pain and suffering she had experienced through her chemotherapy sessions did not compare to the blessings that came into our lives after her miracle. It brought the family together and we were all happier than ever. My mother and aunt’s small business was prospering. My father and uncle’s business was receiving more daily customer phone calls than they had been receiving on a weekly basis. My grandmother was healthy and all five of her grandchildren were excelling in school. And most importantly, regardless of everyone’s chaotic schedule, we all got together on Saturday and Sunday mornings to go to church and praise the benevolent and merciful God that we had all come to know. Everyone was at the dinner table — what a blessing.

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.

The death of a loved one is one of the most challenging events I have had to overcome. The summer of 2014, I was just going into my junior year, was one for the books. It was an absolutely amazing summer. My sister had her first baby in May and we were getting to make his first summer his best, but little did we know it would also be his last. We lost him at the end of July. It was one of the hardest things to cope with. So many unanswered questions still to this day stand.