Personal Narrative-Home

"More than anything, I just want you to know that there is more than one person you can lean on. You may have someone up their who you are relying on, but you have two incrediably strong sons who would never wish to see their mother in pain like this. Whatever the outcome we finally get your boys will be strong for you and in return I'm sure you will be strong for them."[/b]

“Dad!” Was the only word that had rushed out of Russell’s mouth the instant he saw his father enter the room. And, once he finished hugging Cary he then added, “Have you found him? What did those people you arrested say?”

“I’m going to break you.” She said. “Every single bone in your body and once you recover, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

I don’t get why my sister is sending me here, sending me to rehab. Its not like I have a problem. Ok, I have a slight problem but that doesn’t mean I need to go to rehab for it. She thinks it will help me “get better”. I get so annoyed with her when she says that. All she ever says to me now is do this and you’ll get better, try harder and maybe things would work out. Try harder. You don’t think I’ve tried my whole life to fix the things that are wrong with me. I have. I fought every single day and nothing ever changed. I’m still the same way I was since I was little. I’m still messed up. I know I am but she can’t honestly think that rehab is going to help can she? I highly doubt it.

Inside the ambulance, Roy was relieved to find John’s vitals were unchanged when he rechecked them. Although he had hoped they would improve with the IV, at least they weren't getting much worse.

Out the window and down the fire escape, twenty floors was nothing at this point, and considering police would have to get here and go all the way up to the top, I was in the clear. As I slide down the ladder to the ground, I heard the sirens pulling up in the front, perfect timing, I walked out the alley, taking off my hoodie and slowly joining the crowd forming behind the cop cars. “The best place to hide is in plain sight,” something grandpa told me that I'll never forget, though considering I was a college student with a backpack in New York, blending in was a given. Making my way to the side of the crowd, trying to catch a word of what the officers were saying. “Suspect, average height, weight, witness says all they saw was a shadow going out the window.

When she passed by him minutes later, he stepped out from behind the lockers, his fingers forcefully latching onto her wrists. She yelped as she was pulled into the restroom alongside him, a hand quickly pressed to her lips, muffling her cries.

Xavier was beginning to have a light problem with involuntarily being knocked out or foreced to sleep. Again. He was honestly surprised no one in the house coined him Sleeping Brutee. Okay, maybe it was lame but his head really fucking hurt. His slowly dragged his hand and placed it on his forehead, dragging his arm indeed was a challenge. It was like he was carrying his own dead weight around...in his dense state.

Benjamin was the butt of everyone’s jokes. It wasn’t that he was dumb. Just living on some other planet. The town council was embarrassed to have a 26-year-old sitting on a bench all day in front of the courthouse, so they gave him a job polishing’ cannonballs piled beside the Civil War 10 pounder there. But a week later, Benjamin announced he was quitting’. “I found my own cannonball and I’m going into business for myself,” he told the mayor.

It has been a year and a half and things are going good. Mother and father have been getting along and I have even been able to teach Sandy some few tricks, such as rolling over, sitting, and staying in place. Now that it is summer time my father and mother decided to plan a one and a half month trip with me to New York to get me to visit new and different places. They say it is going to be very different but they also said that we were going to have fun while there but I wasn't very excited since I don't know New York and I have heard that it is very big and has a lot of people which makes me scared since I don't know what could happen, but I hope I can at least make a friend while in New York that can get along with me just fine, and i

“Frank,” Gerard whispers from his bed, rustling the covers and he turns to face me. Propping his head in the palm of his hand he waits for me to respond. Which I don’t, because it’s nearly 4am, so I at least give him a loud ‘humm’. “Can I see your tattoos?” he asks like a little kid asking for candy. I nod even though he can’t see and flick on the lights. Practically blinding me. I sit up and pull off my shirt nonchalantly. It seems like a weird request for most people, but it’s happened to me so much I am overly comfortable with my body. His eyes widen and stands up cautiously, acting like if he got too close I’d bite him. Even though I only have a few, he looks like it’s his first time watching porn. He cocks his head, looking at my face, confused. “What are these?” he says, holding out his hand point, but stopping a few inches from my ear. Almost as if he was going to touch, but couldn’t. I wish he would. Not in the creepy way, I mean, I’m straight. Sure. But I wanted him to know it was okay to touch me. For the future.

“He is doing the laundry, so we will have clean towels. I don’t think he knows how to turn the washing machine on let alone wash a load of clothes. He kept telling me to stay up here and let him do his thing, so I did. You might want to check on him.”

The West side of New York is busy at this time of day, specifically Virginie Scott park,

Mama shoved me under Daddy's church desk, and laid on top of me with her hand over my mouth. I broke free long enough to say, "Daddy's flying away, Mama."

My mind fogs up as I try to recall my doctor’s reassuring words. Memories begin to blur and blend in with each other as I try to reach out in this fog of darkness, attempting to grasp what is authentic and what is not. I need to reorganize and record my thoughts somewhere objective, somewhere I know is secure and wouldn’t be altered in any shape or form. I pick up a pencil that is placed in front of me and gradually begin to scrawl out my thoughts on a scrap piece of paper. As I progressively document every bit of detail of my memories, I begin to notice a faint murmur behind the frigid, white wall adjacent to me. I shrug it off and blindly assume that it is just my neighbours conversing with each other. Time