Personal Narrative: House In Illinois

It was a nice summer morning we I was all of a suden shoke like turbulence on a plane to wake up. It turns out I slept threw my alarm to wake up for the day. It was about 11:00 am and today we were heading to Florida and our flight takes off at 1:00 pm. You may think that we had time to make the airport in Milwaukee but, we had to drive all the way to Chicago, Illinois because there was no flight for Florida in Milwaukee. Luckily I had packed the day before with the rest of my family so all we had to do was wait for our aunt Lisa to take us to the aiport in Chicago. She showed up five minutes later with a mini van and there was about seven of us jammed in there. It was alright for me because in our family if you called “shot-gun” or “I

As I sat in my fourth grade English class listening to my teacher tell me "you have a book report due in just two short weeks" and I thought to myself how am I ever going to do this? I have never been a good writer and I have no idea where to begin explaining the book "Little House on The Praire" and presenting it in front of the class without being embaressed as all get out.The day went on as I thought about it more and more the bell rang. I ran out to my mom's car and stated "Mom I have a book report due in just two short weeks and I cant do it. She said "why not honey" I said " Im just not s good enough writer" She said " yes you are and yes you can and you will do a fantastic job at it. That is when I realized I am a writer.

One morning, i was in 6th grade, my sister and I wake up, and we are home alone. We heard large noises on the porch. We went to go peek through the curtain, and there was a man lying on our porch. I called the neighbors, and we both hopped the fence and they let us in. The cops had then been called, while the stranger was still on our porch. The cops arrive and get the stranger and his information. The following day, we found out the man was on probation. The significance of this day, was the neighbors, that we are good friends with, helped us out in the moment of panic, and my sister and I not knowing what to do. Transformation that created fear of this day, was when we were home alone getting ready for school around 10:30, and then having a stranger at my doorstep. Also, not knowing what to do at that one moment of panic at time.

I have written many essays since I was in middle school yet most of my writing was not that important besides for a grade. Yet there is one piece of writing I wrote that change my life and felt that it had an important impact to The City of Chicago. My teacher during that time wanted the class to enter in a citywide competition, which is called “Do The Write Thing”. It is a way for students to voice their opinions on how to stop the violence in Chicago. I wanted to help reduce the violence in Chicago since many youths are being killed in the streets every single day. In my paper, I mainly focused on three body paragraphs. The first one was why the violence in the city was increasing. The second one was some type of violence that I have witness in my own personal life. The final paragraph

I didn't always live in California. Before California I lived in Denver, Colorado. Before Denver I lived in Aurora, Colorado. When we moved to california we had a family of five. We moved to California, when I was six, Then we lived at my grandma’s house in Riverside for a year. We found a place on Ferree Street and that became our home.

I witnessed my cousins boyfriend corpse lying on my neighbors lawn. It was a humid summer night around 3:30 when I peeked through my window and saw my devastated cousin sobbing uncontrollably on my decaying porch. Being from East chicago, Indiana has transformed me into the person I am today.

I stayed there for a yr and I didn't like it, I wanted to go home after one week of me being

The city of Chicago has been displayed as a dangerous city in which all residents are affiliated with drugs, gangs, and misconduct of firearms. Whether someone fits into this stereotype or not, is normally based on their surroundings and their interactions with others. Growing up in Gage Park, named one of the worst neighborhoods, falling into this stereotype and becoming affiliated with drugs, guns, and gangs, would not be too hard for someone to do. However, I have lived in Gage Park my whole life and have not fallen into the status quo. I have had family members and friends fall into this realm of unpleasantness and watching them become another wrong kind of statistic is upsetting. I have been faced with the decision of continuing to have

Someone broke into my car and about $400 worth of cash and items were stolen.

I keep running from one to another. The rooms are big with white walls and ceilings. Here and there bright colors decorate the walls. Small groups of people converse over their opinions. Children reach out to touch and their mothers pull them in, smacking their hands and telling them no. I stop and spin around, trying to absorb everything around me. Then I stop and stare.

Dear family for Illinois,remember when it was snowing that a fell in the snow and came out cold and wet and the sleds that we would go to MC Henry in Woodstock and grama would make us hot cocoa it was the best day of my life.well it started in December when we spended all the time sleeping there well all my family can to come over and say hi and had a nice time . well you think that all no no no when Christmas can everybody came to celebrate and was so cool but the best gift was the family that was there was like you will never get cold because you know they will always be on your back.

On April 1, 2000, I was placed into a group home because of my behavior at the home. My dad and I didn’t get along. So he sent me to a placed called Bowman House. When I arrived there the first person I met was a lady name Alexander, she begin showing me around the units. Alexander was called the granny of the units. It was two units for the boys and girls. She took me to the boys unit first to look at the units. After I looked at the boys unit she took me to the girls unit. Where I would be staying. I had the chance to bond with Alexander, it wasn’t something I was trying to do it just happen. I had to stay with Alexander until the staff came back from picking the other peers up from school. An hour pass and the peers came back I had to go

The house was long, white, and had blue shudders. I could always pick out which set of windows out front peeked into my bedroom because of the messy off-white paint stuck to it after years of never being touched up. Inside, so much more was going on than the typical all-American home lead outsiders to believe. Confusion, growth, fear, and lots of aluminum cans.

The car suddenly stopped and jolted me from my sleep. Disoriented, I looked around and tried to make sense of where I was and what I was doing. Over to my left, I saw my sister doing the same. Tall, blue, connected houses surrounded us and we were parked in the middle of a pristine parking lot. Green, luscious lawns sat in front of those blue houses. A gigantic tree surrounded by beautiful multicolored flowers sat to the left of a dumpster and a wooden sign with white script on it. “The Pointe at Stoneview,” I read to myself.

My grandparents live in an old apartment which is surround by orderly and crowded houses that has aged through time. As I mentioned, the apartment they lived in is special and honorable since it was provided by the company that my grandparents worked with. “Paper Machinery Company”, as what my grandfather said when I asked him where he works, with a proud smile stapled on his face. Three blocks away from the building where my grandparents work their hearts out is where you’ll find my heaven. It is surrounded with a variety of colorful fruits, and freshly picked soil stained vegetables. I could still remember the strong smell of the salt stinking fish when I passed by that crowded market. My family who comes from my father’s side worked there three generations ago. My grandfather was a senior engineer; this house was given by the factory director as a gift. From the first floor to fifth, every family member that lived in that building had a similar but different background. Some of the family members were leaders from the factory, and some were designers. When I was young, I spent most of my days at my grandparents’ house when my parents went to work for a living. I always watch people hurriedly walk out from their doors with different colors, and rushed into the narrow small gates, and get on the bus. They never forgot to wear their smile as they leave their