Personal Narrative Reflection Paper

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As I sat in the courthouse, I observed my surroundings, and asked myself why I was here. My mother was in the courtroom along with my dad arguing: who deserved guardianship and how much child support should be paid.(Citations) I contorted myself in a chair and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the judge to summon me. “Tick Tock” overtook the room due to the clock. I did not realize how long I had been sitting there, and I was soon in the courtroom. I timidly entered into the wood-filled room, and I spotted my dad’s first cousin, Court Poore, and looked around for another familiar face. I sighted an unknown face, which I realized was my mother 's lawyer. Then I noticed a judge, with a black like cloth draped over his body, perched…show more content…
It is stated in “In the Courtroom: Who Does What?” that the court reporter sits near the witness stand in the courtroom and records everything that is said during the trial (or introduced into evidence) by typing it on a stenographic machine. (In the Courtroom: Who Does What?).
I began to utter, “My father and I do not have the best relationship. Once he got shot he completely changed: his parenting skills, his views on life, his love for god, and his girlfriend.”
“What do you mean by that Ms. Halterman?”
“He is not the dad he once was. The years before he got shot I could not have asked for a better father. He never missed anything of mine: practices, games, ceremonies, anything you name it and he was there. My mom on the other hand was never there, ever. I never looked for my mom in the stands because I knew she would not be there, but I knew my dad would be. I was once a “daddy’s girl”, but now I am a “Mommy’s Girl””
“What do you think changed that other than him getting shot?”
With a shaky voice I answered, “The guy I chose to date.”
With confusion, “What do you mean Ms. Halterman.”
I sat there and flashbacks started to overcrowd my brain. From the time we were running around the back yard playing ball to him screaming, “You might as well be dead to me. I have washed my hands with you. Get out of my house!”
With an unstable voice I said, “I dated a guy a different race than me. My father did not

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