Personal Narrative: My Step Father

Elyar, my best friend had just told me ,Ricky, was now gonna tell the principal what I done. It didn't occur to me this was going to happen when I punched his brother ,Duke . Oh, God my dad is gonna kill me. His brother told me my sister, Sanai looked like a flat tire. I was so protective over my sister I couldn't take it. But, maybe I would be off the hook with my dad because I was defending her. Sanai most of the time thought I was her police because I would stick up for her. But, because dad was working 12 and a half hours each day it was my job to protect her. Next year when im in middle school she wont have

The smell of gas was like the tingaling taste of chocolate on my tongue. The wind against my face was like the water in a lake. Smooth, and always rippling. The feeling of my step-dad´s love, spreading right through the air with the motorcycle zooming right through it. Feeling so nice, and comforting against my skin.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was in a park, bright and sunny out , I was feeling every kind of emotion there was to feel. I didn’t know what to expect or how I was going to react. My mom was right next to me looking calm as ever. How did she do it? Suddenly, I see a car pull up and a taller, muscular man steps out. That’s the very first time I met my biological dad.

Ever since I was a little girl, I always loved going to work with my Dad. My Dad is the fleet owner of a trucking company in Cabot, AR. I remember when we would pull into the truck yard and take inventory of the 18-wheelers and trailers left on the yard.

I laid down on the white, musty bedsheets next to my ailing mother. This was her fourth trip to the hospital in a month. I was only six at the time and wasn’t really sure why I was in this room waiting for the doctor to come back, but I knew I had to be there for my best friend. I snuggled up closer on her right side and mustered up the courage to ask the question I had been wondering all month.

No one knows the story behind why my dad is such a horrible. You've only heard bits and parts of the story that are easy for me to explain. They don't make me tear up because I know that nothing is ever going to change. There're some parts in the story that make me frustrated and tear up and those are the parts that I hate to share. I just have to be strong enough and courageous enough to tell the parts that hurt the most. I share my feelings about my dad on this blog to vent and to show you that through difficult times you're not alone. Sometimes you feel like you're trapped in a dark hole and you can't get out. The truth is you can get out. Look for the light at the end of the dark hole. There is light somewhere you can't be stuck in the dark for the rest of

At my Step Dad's, Chad, we sometimes go deer spotting at night or day. It's really fun, but there was this one time that will I remember, and will never forget.

More traumatic fights occurred within that apartment we lived in, until finally they both agreed to get a divorce. They needed to get the divorce; they weren’t healthy for one another. Yes, my mom and dad were gone and the fighting was gone, but Cory and I still had to deal with going back and forth. It wasn’t that bad since, they were only an hour apart, but the transfer season was coming up and my dad was seeing someone already. The person he sees later becomes my step mom, but she made my dad move across the country to Seattle, Washington. Moving there with my dad meant that my brother and I couldn’t go home to our mom anytime we wanted to anymore. We were stuck with my dad until summertime. We had to deal with not only his temper, but

My mom and dad got a divorce when I was only 5 years old. They told me it was because of domestic violence. For most of my life I wished I had a father. If I had a father, I thought, it would make things okay. My mom wouldn't have to work all the time and maybe she would spend time with me and my sister. Maybe my father would teach me to ride my bike or play soccer with me and my sister in the park. I knew these were all just puerile thoughts, but if he had been different maybe I wouldn't be on my own all the time looking out for my family and doing everything on my own.

After I had become clued in on just how far my parents had fallen behind on the mortgage, I felt I had no choice but to do whatever I could to help out. What choice did I have, really? We needed a place to live, didn’t we? So I went to my cigar box and retrieved my savings that I had accumulated for the Tran Am along with the small amount I had stored up in the occasional rainy day fund. I had figured that this was just about as rainy of a time as any. So when the first chance had arisen for me to approach my mama (Which was sometime when my Step Daddy Cade wasn’t in ear shot. I didn’t want to hurt his pride by offering them money. It was a big deal for him to have us think of him as the bread-winner, and by taking money from his kid,

It was the spring of 2013. My mom took me out of school early that day because we needed to get driving to Dike, Iowa. Since my sister is also a volleyball player, she has state that same weekend, but not in the same place. However, the sophomores were at the same place we were. Anyhow, my sister drove with my mom to the hotel her team was staying at, and I drove with my dad. I’m a lot like my dad so I get ready pretty quickly and I only pack what’s needed. When I got home, it took me about five minutes to get ready since I packed my bag the day before. On the other hand, my mom had to take at least half an hour to “fix” her makeup and her hair, and my sister took about forty-five minutes just to pack her bag! Anyways, my dad and I made it

If there was one thing that my father made sure I experienced from a young age, it was hard work. When he first traveled to this country, the only thing to his name was his suitcase and a handful of money. Shortly after when I was born, he worked from the ground up to ensure I had a good upbringing. When I graduated high school, he didn't have the money to send me to college, and I didn't want to be snared by student loans, so I had to find another way. I wanted to work for everything that I earned, so I joined the military.

You see, Grandma Singer was my Step Daddy Cade’s mama, and my step daddy had been born and raised right here in Alabama along with the rest of his family. He had never even left the state except for a brief time when he had attended college in New Orleans. And, from what I had gathered of that, I guess college hadn’t worked out all-too-well for him. (You could say my Step Daddy Cade isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, I’d say he’s so dim-witted that even the state of Alabama thought of kicking him out.) And, well, during my step daddy’s brief time in school books had quickly and thoroughly kicked his ass. So like most drop outs, he had spent the majority of his time getting high and drunk down in the French Quarter before

After having declined my offer, my mama gave me a big hug and a kiss on the forehead like she usually does and had thanked me for being so thoughtful. I even thought I had seen a little tear creep out from the corner of her eye, but I could’ve been mistaken about that.

As I walk in, I see my dads old man blowing up what looks like the last green balloon. He’s got smoker lungs, so it looks like he took a while, since there was only one bag. I let him finished and got his inhaler for him. He looks like a grumpy old man, but once you get to know him he’s cool. He’s bald in one spot, just like my dad, and wears big dog t-shirts. He served in the Vietnam war. He’s shorter than most people.