Personal Narrative Essay: Root Beer

Growing up, I dealt with a mother who struggled with addiction; to be unambiguous, she was an alcoholic. She drowned in her alcoholism as it pulled her down an alarming road. She was dreadfully depressed and believed that alcohol was the only way to make her feel better, addiction blinded her from what a great life she could have ahead of her. Not a single member of our family knew how to help her comprehend how much happier she would be if she could stop drinking her sorrows away. When it came to family events, my mom would try to conform to how others were acting and act “sober” even though she was already countless drinks deep in to drinking. Nevertheless, my mother just wanted others to like her which would lead her to change her outward

My relationship with drugs first began during my senior year of high school. While most of my peers attended their first parties years earlier, my first was not until I was already 17 years old. I still remember feeling so cool for attending my first party and having my first sip of alcohol. The feeling of being drunk was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt liberated, like I could break out of my quiet shell and be that fun, goofy person that everyone wanted to hang out with. Prior to this night I had never used any type of substance, legal or illegal. Since then I have continued using alcohol while also trying various different types of drugs including caffeine, marijuana, tobacco, and adderall.

On the way home I thought about asking Soda about my essay. I knew Soda would tell me that “it was perfect and that I was so smart”, Darry would say “it needs more information”. When I walked into the house Soda had a weed and a letter in his hand, I thought to myself “It’s very strange for Soda to smoke.” He only smokes when he needs to calm his nerves. When i looked at his face closer he looked happy but mad. I asked “What’s wrong.” He didn’t reply, so I sat down next to him and the letter was from Sandy! The letter said “ Hello Soda i’ve missed you.” “There is something very important that i should have told you a long time ago.” “ I lied when I found out that I was pregnant I was so happy but, I thought that it would hold you back from being you.” That’s when I decided to move to Florida. “ I made you believe that the baby was someone else’s when it’s actually yours.” Right now your baby girl is five months old.” “ Soda i’m really sorry for any pain I caused but, if you want to see her I will give you the money for you and your brothers to come see her.” “ From Sandy.” Soda quickly crumbled up the paper and ran out the door. Shortly after that Darry was home from school.

As I pulled up and parked I checked in with myself to see how I was feeling. I was extremely nervous that I would stand out like a sore thumb. I have never been to a meeting before and I didn’t know if everyone had to speak or if there would be some sort of role call where everyone would need to introduce themselves and state they were an alcoholic and how long they had been sober. I was quite concerned that I would make some sort of social faux pas since I didn’t know the rules.

At the doorway, momentarily, I hesitated. Should I continue? Should I call the police instead? Should I even be here, pondering over to help the man who constantly abused his children and deserved to die? Should I?

Cliff sat down next to Jensen watching the other alpha down two whiskey shots in a row. “Slow down alpha, or I’ll be taking you home in about twenty minutes.” Cliff admonished.

At age 12 I sat in a trailer with my sister age 16 and three good friends, Maddy pulled out a bag and out of that bag she took out a febreez box which contained a bag of weed., she didnt actually smoke the weed, but she showed us how you would. tears filled my eyes, taking in reality that all that she had been taught and all she knew about drugs, that my big sister, example, stouped so low. Maddy told me I could not tell a soul. It was just about the most deteriorating, and invigorating thing I could ever imagine to promise to her. To promise her I would never tell anybody about what I had just witnessed. My friend jammed a ton of thoughts and words in to my head that I needed to promise her, and the were putting so much pressure and weight

It was a spring afternoon. It was my birthday and i was turning 11 and my mom exclaimed she wanted to take me somewhere. So we hopped in the car and we left. Then we were driving and about 10 minutes later we were on Tuttle Crossing Blvd. We turned left and i saw BJ’s Brewhouse. Then we pulled into Bj’s Brewhouse, we hopped out of the car, and on the way inside, i saw some delicious looking food. I could smell the food so much it felt like i was in a new world, I could have exploded because it was making me hungry.

It was a warm April day with clouds hanging and storms on the horizon. School had just gotten out, and everybody was rushing home so they could start their weekend plans. For most people that included prom, but me and my friends had different plans, which included going out to eat on Friday night. On the way to the restaurant, me and Sara were talking about how my excitement was building in anticipation of receiving my drivers license and talking about our difficult homework.

On November 16, I received the notice from U.S Equal Employment Opportunity Commission District Office, Phoenix.

Tucked at the end of a long dirt road, framed with cacti, sat the low profile block building. Surrounded by a wire fence, I later learned it to be the men’s facility. My new home, the women’s quarters, sat in the open paved lot. “Phoenix Prison Camp,” read the sign. Joe opened the chicken wire embedded glass door and led us into the administration building. Dragging their feet, my kids accompanied us inside. We had few words to say. No one acknowledged us. We waited, huddled together on a wooden bench, our legs and hands crossed. Levi rubbed his face. I chewed my nails. Framed photos of Barack Obama and Eric Holder hung on the wall. Guards strolled past, ignoring us.

It was my dad's birthday and I did not know what we were going to do. He said

The moment I emerged from the stairway I began to stare at the man sitting in the chair across the room. This man was not the man I remembered; this man was pale, weak, and lacked motivation. He was not my grandpa: outspoken, stubborn, and jolly. However, the house had not changed one bit. There was still a cluttered mess on the table and reminisce of my departed great-grandma all throughout the house.

The quick ratio for Boston Beer Company is 1.33. A company’s quick ratio is an indicator of a company’s short-term liquidity. This ratio is a more conservative form of the current ratio because it does not take into account inventory of the company when determining its current assets. Boston Beer Company still has a favorable ratio well above 1.0. While their current ratio is much better with all the inventory, Boston Beer Company is still a reliable company that can pay off its short term debts if need be.

Then the 134 arrived. I got on, showed my pass to the bus driver and