Personal Narrative: Growing Up In A Home

Reporter stated he just found out about 30 minutes ago that there was no power in the home. It is unknown how long the power had been off. The was also no running water. It is unknown how long the water had been off. Reporter stated the landlord evicted the mother from the home and will change the locks tomorrow. Reporter stated his daughter (Morgan) went to the home becasue mom was on Facebook and implied about killing herself. Reporter stated Kynslee was in her crib. Mom couldn't pick her up because she has carpal tunnel and had to have surgery. Reporter stated the baby was soak and wet in the home. Reporter stated Isabella is with her father. Reporter believes Isabella is okay because Morgan wouldn't have allowed her to go with her father.

As I open the “Staff and Volunteer Only” door in the back of the East Bay SPCA animal shelter, I slip on my black apron stained from a year’s use and walk briskly through the back hallways with bright blue tennis shoes squeaking. Friendly hellos are exchanged as I pass familiar faces all wearing their blue staff shirts. After adjusting my nametag and grabbing a set of keys attached to a red dog chew toy, I head to the kitchen to prepare food. As I measure out the kibble and pour it into practical tin bowls, yips, barks, and whines echo the halls. The clattering of my keys at the kennel door usually has the dog inside alert and jumping of joy. However, as I open this particular door, holding a specially prepared meal, the dog lying on her

We eventually had to start visitation. We would go to dads on Friday evenings and stay until Sunday mornings. I do not remember when my dad remarried, but I would say it was with in the first year. Every weekend we were there we would work on the farm. Being so young at the time did not make it seem so bad. As time went on and we got older all of that changed. The screaming and yelling from both my dad and step-mom got worse. Never knowing if what you were fixing to do or say was going to get you yelled at or punished was the worse. Most of the time my dad and brother would be outside working, and us girls would be in the house cooking or cleaning. So, my dad was oblivious to how we were being treated.

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In my seventh-period P.E. class Mrs. Greene announced to us, “That it is cold outside so you can either stay in the gym or go outside.” Faith, Jessica, and I stood up from the hard black unappealing plastic bleachers to go outside. As I opened the door, the wind whipped around my bare skin and leaves whirled along the ground. “It is freezing; I'm going back inside.” I retorted. We were walking along the narrow hallway going back to the gym when we met Carlie. She gave us no room to walk by her so I retreated to the wall that way we wouldn’t collide with each other. I turned around and saw Carlie bump into Faith. “Move outta my way.” Faith screeched ferociously. Carlie looked at Faith with her eyes glaring, but preceded to walk onward down

I was raised in an untraditional home. My mother was a teenage parent and my father was older with two children of his own when I was born. Eventually I would have three more siblings join the family. My parents struggled tremendously to care for six children, which forced them to worked several jobs each to provide the necessitates. Providing health care for a family of eight was beyond what my parents could afford even while working two job each, however state medical assistance made sure we each had the care we needed. My parents demanding work load shifted the responsibility of caring for my siblings on me. The financial stress my parents faced continued as I approached college. My decision on which undergraduate university I would attend

“Cindy, what makes you special is you. As you can finally guess, Vernon does background investigations on every applicate to work on this level and may have personal access to me. You are the only person within my entire conglomerate who had disclosed your entire life and even a few things that Vernon didn’t know. You may not think belong here, but I know you do. Just do me one small favor.”

FC met with family. Gabriella was in the home chasing the family's cats. Gabriella said "cat," "couch," and cat running." Gabriella ran and offered the two cats different toys. Gabriella noticed the FC's bag and questioned the contents, such as "what's that." Gabriella began to play with the family's ball and brought her own toys in the living room. Once the FC began the ELAP with Gabby's brother, Gabriella often yelled and attempted to take the toys from Mason. Christina often redirected Gabriella's behavior, but Gabriella was consistently became upset. FC offered Gabriella a puzzle, in which she needed assistance in completing. Gabriella's had often gotten frustrated in the process and returned to wanting toys Mason played with. Christina

Growing up as a kid, I was quite the troublemaker. I would act out inappropriately at unfitting times, which frequently led to consequences. It did not matter whether I was in public or at home; I would continue to act the same. It ranged from using offensive words and physically hurting others, to being inconsiderate. I was a naïve child who was oblivious to the real world, and acted on a whim without the thought of the consequences for my actions. One may describe this behavior as simply what makes a child, a child; however, I never knew how much it would affect my life going forward.

Once again my location had changed. This time I was on an open terrace. I was still decked out in my ancient Middle Eastern garb. Adeline was next to me. I couldn’t move though. When I tried to move my arms up to brush the hair away from her face, my arm wouldn’t move. I moved my head around. I saw that all of my ligaments had been slashed. The wounds were still fresh. The sultan was on his knees begging for his life. King Rashad, my brother in this part of my dream, was sitting on his throne in front of the sultan. My brother looked at me. His face turned into a sad battle of emotion. He looked back at the sultan who was on his knees between two guards. They both had large blades at the end of long shafts. The ruler started to cry. Rage filled

Ever since I was a little kid, I have been building things. I was drawn to my dad’s tools, and the spare wood around the house represented something new. Nearly every day I would go down into the basement, for one reason or another, and see the wood, and the heavy drawers where the tools were kept. Occasionally, my dad would have to make small repairs around the house, the kind that all homeowners make. I loved to watch him do these sort of jobs, and sometimes I would get to hold nails and screws, or keep that plywood sheet in just the right place, so he could hammer it in. I was disappointed that I couldn’t help him more. One day, I changed that.

"I can't believe it, that one mistake coasted me everything I once possessed," I grumbled under my breathe.

My story begins at a pay phone on the east side of Cleveland in 1986. I and Flora found ourselves homeless once again. I was playing with the payphone and this was getting on her nerves so she hit me. I stopped this action and she proceeds to make her important call. A couple of hours later a Cleveland Police and a Social worker show up. I waved goodbye to my mother and was off to Dorothy Lee Jordan’s home.

While growing up as the youngest child I depended on my parents and siblings for just about everything. I would always seek for help rather than doing things by myself. I had my father drop me off at school, which was literally a five-minute walk. I would even ask someone to fetch me water because I would be busy playing video games. My brothers assisted me in doing homework because I wanted homework done as soon as possible so I can go play. I would get angry if no one was around because I wouldn’t know how to do some stuff because I had others doing them for me. I was sometimes guilty when I had others to do things for me but I ignored my guilty conscience and continued. This had a very negative effect on me because I became very dependent

Have you ever been forced to relocate without having a choice ? It’s not pleasing. It was mid March in 2014 and it was still somewhat wintry in Chicago at the time. I arrived at home after an extensive day at school, completed my homework, and unwound with tv. Shortly, it was time for dinner so I headed to the dining table. My parents requested for me to have a seat and I just knew something was up.