Personal Narrative: Entering A Jail Cell

Halfway through every year we are expected to go on an excursion. This year’s excursion was to Mangalo Prison. Mangalo prison was famous in our town as people believed criminals left there evil spirits behind in there, that and the fact it was nearly a hundred years old was the only reason why it still existed. Finding a seat on the school bus was like a hierarchy, you know, popular people at the back, nerds at the front and then there’s the loser who sits next to the bus driver. I didn’t mind sitting next to the bus driver, I suppose after seven years you get to know the guy. It was a lot easier to talk to Steve that trip because unlike the usual chaotic yelling, everyone was listening to Jimmy Dunning’s Mangalo Prison ghost stories. As much as I disliked Jimmy and his strange desire to flush my head down toilets, his stories were actually terrifying. The town of Mangalo was like those deserted towns you see in movies where the only thing moving is a tumble weed. It wasn’t hard to spot the jail as the houses were the size of tents. We were escorted through the jail by a rugged looking man who looked as though he once called the place home. Once the tour was over we were free to explore and wonder the jail ourselves. When I was quietly examining rude graffiti on a jail cell, I felt the most concussive feeling of my neck being jarred as I was shoved from behind into a cell wall. How I got from being pressed up against the wall to my head stuck

It was a right of passage where I grew up. Beer cans littered the backroads and glistened in the moonlight. For miles around country music filled the honeysuckle perfumed air, boots hung out the passenger windows, and mud flung off the tires when we hit the highway burning rubber as far as the tires would let us. Those nights we spent on gravel roads making memories with long time friends are irreplaceable but it all changed in a split second on a beautiful, warm, and sunny morning. When my phone rang and his Moms voice came over the line and all I heard was "He's gone." Before the screaming started. It took me a while before I realized it was me screaming and I sat on the floor and waited for him to call. I thought if I waited long enough

I just recently finished my prison sentence and one thing is very clear to me, I will never go back. I got one thing on my mind and that's to go out and make my money but this time the right way. Only problem is no one will hire a felon. I’ve applied to almost every job on the east side of chicago but let's face it, no one wants to hire a 6’5”, 240 lb guy fresh out the yard. I can't blame them I can be a bit intimidating. I started thinking hard about what I'm going to do.Sleeping at the shelter and constantly having to look over my shoulder just won't cut it anymore. Im tempted to call my family for help but I burned that bridge a long time ago and it won't be getting rebuilt any time soon. So I'm walking down the street when I see a help

For the fifth time that night, I walked over to my mom’s bed to see if she was breathing. I felt the relief wash over me when I saw that she was breathing. She had started to slur her words after dinner around six thirty. Judging by my past experiences this meant she popped a handful of her usual pills around quarter to six. There was nothing out of the ordinary for me in the situation. This was every day life for me, the years leading up to my first year of high school. I was fourteen, and I had been taking care of her from what felt like the time I could walk. Little did I know that would be the last night I had to wake up in twenty-minute increments to check on her. When morning came my bags are being packed, confused I asked what was going on? My aunt walked in to the living room and simply said, “you will be living with me.” Just a short phrase changes my life forever on a day I’ll never forget. It was in the

This reminds me of me and my cousin when we got out of lock up a while back. And us coming back and making our own money and trying to change our lives around in a good way. When he says you either with me or against me, that's what i use to say to my friends before i got locked up. But in the end this song sounds alot like whats happen in the past.

What just happened? How did this happen to me? Why me, there are million of other people on this planet. How did I end up here? Countless question were burning through my mind as I sat in my holding cell. I was apparently I’m the only human who can survive this epidemic, well me and the guy in the cell next to mine. I don’t think he knows that I’m here; he was unconscious when they brought him in three days ago. I think he is waking up now.

5,4,3,2,1, “GUYS FIND THE KEY NOW” BOOM this was the end of our time at KC Escape as the “bomb” goes off and we do not win but we get a positive score in the game we call KC Escape it was very fun until we got really close at the end. There were other things leading up to this, like picking up everyone to go to Alex Brewers birthday party. My brother and I were about the 4th and 5th person in there of about 11-12 kids going to be there at the end. There was about 11 of us in the room and it was really intense at the beginning. It was really fun the whole time for me.

I feel like i've been in jail for almost a year now, but i know it's only been a few weeks. The walls in this room always feel so cold and wet. It’s so dark. No sunlight. I keep having replays in my mind of how everything happened. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat, nor do i want too. I haven’t seen or heard from anyone i know since i got arrested. If only she would have, ugh, we were supposed to be forever. She told me all the time. I have so much anger for her, still till this day. I should go back to the beginning, so whenever i'm gone and someone does find this they know the true story.

At approximately 5:03p.m. Israel Thomas' Mom came down to Mr. Kimpson's room. When she got there she barged in asking, "What is this?" "Is this tutorial or detention?" Mr. Kimpson stated to her, "This is detention." She said, "Oh no he can't stay for that!" She instructed her son to get his things together so that they can leave. When she asked her son, as he was packing up, who assigned detention, he stated Mrs. Northern did. She then came over into my room and said, "Hey, he can't serve a detention and I would appreciate if you have an issue with my son, you call me." I told her, "Ma'am I sent home the letter to inform you that Israel had a detention and he brought it back signed by you." She said, "Yeah I know I signed it but he can't stay for detention." She then stated that, "I know I signed the letter, but I was suppose to call you but I had a lot going on and didn't have time to call." I told her that the only reason he was allowed to stay was because he had permission from her. She said, "No!" "He cannot stay for detention. In the future if y'all have a

It was 2015, my family and I were in Carrollton picking up my cousin who was caught drinking while driving. With my cousin’s bail money in hand, my father went up to the officer in charge and began talking to him. It was very late, and we were the only ones in the waiting room. As we sat in the gray, creaky chairs with nothing but the buzzing of the lights above us, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander as I was trying to figure out one thing my father had told my mother on the drive there:

Me and my brothers were trying to escape from slavery. We walked for the longest time, and we were at a small town named TerryTown. A colored man told us about the danger that lies within the little town. The people in the small town hated colored people especially the ones that are trying to escape slavery. We all got worried and decided to hide in the woods, but then we got scared by a farmers dog. The farmer came outside with his shotgun, and told his dog to be nice.

I still don’t know how I ended up in a jail cell at 3am on a sunday morning. actually scratch that, I know exactly how I ended up here, my friend had decided it would be fun to go clubbing and drag me along, next thing I know, she’s disappeared and I’m in a catfight with a fellow tipsy girl who claims I was looking at her boyfriend.

As I am entering my last two weeks at the agency, my workload is slowly decreasing. Monday, July 25, 2016 my duties for the day consists of filing, printing home pages for the clients, creating an addendum, and meeting with two clients. The most fulfilling part of my day was meeting with two male clients, one is a registered gang member and the other is a recovering addict. Looking back from my start of the internship, I would have been frightened to meet with a registered gang member on my own but as my time progressed I am now confident in my newly developed skills that I can conduct an effective meeting.

I asked Dennise for a little more information on what happened with her case. So she had her first court date around when school was about to start back up again. Dennise and my parents they went downtown to the Frankin County Court House, Dennise said a lady came in instead of a judge, she asked Dennise why she missed so many school days, and how they want her to do better once she's back in school. They decided to give another court date to check up on her grades and attendance, she had the whole month to prove to social services she was doing better in school. The second court date was on September the 25th this was just a check up on how Dennise was doing. My parents were assigned an interpreter that day, my dad tells the interpreter about

I glanced up at the scoreboard. 20 seconds left on the clock, down two points. My teammate passed me the ball at the corner of the three point line. I looked around and before I could blink I was kissing my season goodbye. All the blood, tears, and sweat that was shed on the court suddenly seemed as a waste to me.