Personal Narrative Essay: Hi Father's Bully

Sitting alone in a dark room with nothing but silence. Time seems to have come to a halt and yet my thoughts are still racing. Why you might ask? Honestly I couldn’t tell you why my minds racing. Maybe its because I was bullied since I was 6 years old, or maybe because I watched my family get ripped apart my something very silly and easily fixable. The Doctors told my I had a mental health issues called depression and anxiety. They said I would suffer from the mental issues the rest of my life. They said there wasn’t a cure for it but they could give me medicine to help me feel numb so this issue didn’t bother me as much, but I believe that in your mind there is a war. A war with two sides fighting back and forth to win, but YOU are the winner if you never give up.

One day while Tabaktu was making a delivery, a local bully by the name of Java with all his friends, calls Tabaktu over to talk to him in private. Tabaktu hesitates at first but goes over to see what he wants. Java tells Tabaktu nervously, that he needs his help with something later on that night, and plans to go out when everyone is asleep. Tabaktu is wondering why Java is whispering and looking around cautiously to see who is coming around the corner every five seconds. As Java voice seemed to be getting higher and then back low, Tabaktu starts to wonder how would he be able to sneak out without someone in the house noticing him, not to mention his brother sleeps in the same bed as he does with his mom in the same room. Java is bigger and older than Tabaktu, so

Being a little girl all I ever really wanted was a father that is was there for me. Growing up I was one of those depressed girls who never got to experience the love of her father. Never got to feel the warmth of my father’s hug after a long day. Never experiencing the love and protection from him. Leaving me to question why he was my father for the rest of my life... This is my personal narrative and I will be telling you about the time my father stood me up.

“Have a great day Zoe!” says my bus driver, the nicest person that I know, as I get up from my seat on the bus.

SLAM! I watched Arnold get slammed into a locker by Steve. I didn’t know what to do. This was a common thing that happened every day. I decided I should tell a teacher. We were learning about algebra, so I had to wait for math to end so I could tell Mr. Willmon what Steve is doing. I thought it will be a piece of cake, but as the class went on, the more I thought about getting bullied myself by Steve. The bell rang and Arnold scurried out of the classroom.

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

My interviewee is a second generation immigrant with one parent who was born in El Salvador and the other who has Mexican roots but was born in the United States. For the purposes of confidentiality my interviewee will be addressed as Ana from here on out. In this interview paper I will discuss the experiences that Ana faced growing up in a tri-racial household. I will also evaluate her experiences regarding assimilation to the lectures and reading assigned through out this course.

Bullying is a subject I totally take personally. There have been many occasions in which I found myself a victim of this epidemic, because that’s exactly what it is, an epidemic, a silent war, that no one seems to understand or even want to face alone, this issue that have swept under the rug all across this nation for a very long time, for far too long. The buck stops here! While reading through my Sunday morning paper over breakfast, I happened to run across a story that really tugged at my heart strings, and this is not the first story like this I’ve read. A young woman in high school here in my town kills herself because of continual bullying initiated by someone else at school. The question that runs through my mind is, why? There are

Initially, Carlos (aka Charlie) was court ordered for treatment to explore his issues with substance abuse, when he was arrested for driving while intoxicated. During subsequent sessions, Charlie spoke of his early childhood struggles with being accepted by his family and his rebellious behaviors. Currently, Charlie still explores his issues with his self-esteem while he blames others for the way he feels about himself. However, Charlie had expressed feelings of anger towards those around him including his girlfriends, ex-wives, manager, directors, and co-workers proclaiming them all as losers and himself as a “Winner!” He has commented to reporters that he has no anger issues and it is everyone else’s problem with the way he acts not his,

My life flashed before my eyes. I knew I couldn’t stop. I froze. I crashed. I woke up. On March 13th 2011, I had an accident. I woke up in a pool of crimson mud and snow, and I could see my right cheek in the corner of my eye. I slid my tongue across my teeth, and cringed in fear as I felt the abnormality inside my mouth: every tooth right of my nose was misshapen, and my front teeth were halfway out of my mouth. I was missing another. I thought God had tried to kill me, and I was irrational. I couldn’t move. I had slid off the ice covered ski path and off into the woods.

I fell asleep just in the middle of the hallway hoping that all of this was just a dream. I woke up feeling like i had been drinking all last night. I hated myself for killing an innocent cat. I went outside because i felt like i had to because i was so disgusted. I threw up all my insides so i went back inside to ask for treats to possibly to feel better about myself and this whole situation. I went over to the main room to beg to fill my empty stomach. The mom got up and fed me a decent amount of treats. This made me feel great for the time being totally forgetting about the cat and the whole fight. Once i ate them all i felt that sadness and sickness that was lurking in me still. I figure that the treats were a temporary cure for the disease

the abuse I endured from my parents. I didn’t do too well in school either, I was 8-years old and had no clue what the alphabet was or how to count to 10, I even forgot how to spell my name. Once in a while they would help me with my work, but never too often and always made fun of me. In time, the problem seemed to escalate causing me troubles in school with other students and faculty which forced me being expelled from school. From that point on, there was a lot of tension building at home because of my disorder causing chaos, fighting, arguing with the family all day, everyday. One afternoon after a walk, I came back to realize that almost everything in my room was boxed up. I asked what was going on but all they did was give me

I let myself join in on the conversation about which ice cream topping was the best, and then, all of a sudden, we were all saying our last goodbyes.

"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.

When I was in third grade there was this kid named Andrew. He is a very important person in my memories because he was my bully. It wasn’t the kind of bullying situation that you could fix by telling a parent because he was in my dad’s car. Yes he was a person in my dad’s carpool and there was nothing i could do about it. At school there was an assembly that talked about the types of bullies. They were verbal, assault, exclusion, and cyber. He would do all of those things to me. He would call me fat, ugly, and swear words that i can’t say/write. He was also at my school and we had recess together. When i would go outside he would track me down and he would push me and throw basket balls and soccer balls at me.