Personal Narrative: My Red Home

I woke up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and went down stairs and called my friend Joey Gliech and said “Today is the day!”

I left my radio in the back room in was most likely with the volunteer who was covering for me. He yelled at me to "get up" and told me lets talk in Joshs' office (which was a few steps away). Daniel storms in Joshs' office, turns on the light and sits down in the office chair in front of the desk with his arms crossed and a sticky note in his hand. I follow him and prop the door open with the door stop is I say "lets keep the door open it's hot in here." The real reason I did this was because I was extremely uncomfortable. He then yells, "Do you want to tell me where you have been?". I was standing in the door way, not completely in the room when I told him that I met with HR. He asked very angrily who I got permission to leave from and then stated that I left my post without permission.

I HAD BEEN ASLEEP QUITE SOUNDLY FOR A COUPLE HOURS, WHEN I WAS AWOKEN BY AN ALL TOO FAMILIAR SOUND. IT SEEMED LIKE EVERY TIME MY BRAIN REGISTERED CERTAIN NOISES - EVEN WHEN I WAS DEEP IN SLEEP, IT SENT OFF A PANIC TRIGGER THAT FLOODED THROUGH MY MIND. THIS WAS ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

The agency I chose to interview was MyHouse at 300 North Willow in Wasilla, Alaska. Their mission is to provide safe shelter for homeless youth with a goal of connecting kids to a network of caring individuals and agencies able to assist them in becoming self-sufficient. They have a board of directors that meet regularly to discuss issues and where to go next with the agency.

“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?”

“Tell me, how does a pathetic, worthless, but yet intelligent person get into this mess and end up here?” Seymour asks, not really expecting an answer, but to dignify his still anger, uses his carved, smooth surface of his wooden baseball bat to strike her left knee, which has fell off for the fifth time now, since she awoken in the mysterious room. She was tired, hungry, thirsty, homesick, and yet so furious the adrenaline pumped bitter life into her and she sat, ropes to her chest, arms, and legs, thinking about life before this moment. “She gets the million dollar questions correct, but only by taking wild guesses,” she manages to say, hoping this sacred fuel will last forever. Before taking another swing at her leg, he chuckles, and then

All I had ever wanted to be when I grew up was a mom. My husband and I tried for years to have children but alas it wasn't in God's plan for us. So we needed a new plan. We looked into foster care.

“Why, so she can go on and on about how long we haven’t seen each other?”

“Hmmph! WHERE ARE THE PLUGINS THAT I WANT!?” My manager’s words resonated through my body and my eyes started to flare. My fingers nimbly typed out the words that would lead me to a comforting place. I dove into the world of coding languages where the limit’s the sky and I knew how to fly.

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

We finally left Denver and I was excited to start a new journey-- well, I was mostly

“I Allen Moira, take you Cecillia to be my wife. I promise to cherish you for all my days. I vow to live for you, and do everything I can to ensure your happiness. No matter how dark things may become I promise to be your light that leads you to safety. I love you, Cecilia. Do you accept me as your husband?”

The bus creaking to a stop makes me cringe. Not only does the sound hit that spot in my neck just right, but it also forces me back to reality. Back to what’s about to happen.

Miranda Lambert’s song “The House That Built Me” reminded my of this essay. My grandmother’s home was the significant place I chose to write about. This house is a part of many memories I have because I grew up running around the entire farm. Throughout this song, Lambert is reminiscing about her childhood home, and all the memories she has from it. This is the perfect song to describe how special my grandparent’s house is to me.

I am surrounded, with no food or water and I am running out of ammo. My guards were killed a couple hours ago. I don't have much time, if anyone gets this tell my family I love them.