Personal Narrative: Stay At Open Gate

Shattering snowfall of glass surrounded my form with the offending rush of cold air resembled a blizzard; the scent of alcohol now strangled my nose and throat. Blinding lights of neon signs complimented the dark night of the cold fall nights of Telegraph Rd.. However, the chilled air was not able to breach the inside of the warm car that held us; my sister, father, and myself, with the soft music of gospel quietly played. Inevitably, our peaceful serenity was interrupted by the commotion of a semi-truck swerving behind us. Right lane. Left lane. Right lane. Left lane. This behavior became the focus of my father as he was trying to drive us home safely that night. Cautious steering became useless in a single damning moment; our car swerved, my sister wailing, father’s muffled exclamations, and the protruding smell of beer. Thankfully, my body was unscathed; however, the way I envisioned the world changed drastically.

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

Her father’s words echoed through her head as one might hear a reverberation throughout the Taj Mahal. Continuous. Chilling. Having no control to distill the wavelengths until they mellowed out on their own accord. She tried to anatomize the depth of his phrase, more than dutifully needed but Davina needed to know why. Why did she need to keep an open mind and more importantly, who the hell was about to come bursting through that door. But then again, did it really matter in the first place. When she thought about it, the brunette could have laughed at the idea. That an unattributed, faceless figure had her panties in a bunch. Surely Dominic wouldn’t think to waste her time with venial diversions,

I’ve always been an outsider, it’s been hard for me to build friendships and relationships. Not too long ago, there I sat in the corner of the room in the way back, trying to hide from the world, and be myself. I didn’t really want to get involved with anything or anyone. I was afraid to open up, talk to others, maybe because I was afraid to get rejected. Until, I met the best people I could ever meet, my best friends Marisa Mendoza, Jessica Contreras and Deseray Reyes, the ones who up to this day have sticked by my side, at my best, and worst moments. They have all been a big part of my life, I can enjoy every minute I spend with them. For me, they aren’t only my friends they are like my sisters.

Around two or three years ago my family and I had to move houses. Moving was sudden and we didn't know it was going to happen. This made moving out and into the other house a lot harder. Since we were moving so fast somethings we just decided to leave behind with the person that was still living there. We got most things with us but one thing that we did leave back in the old place was our living room tv. Since we had just moved and my family isn't rich my mom said we couldn't go get a new one for some time. This sucked because I used the tv a lot for watching show, movies, and playing games just like the rest of my family did. Having a tv wasn't something we needed at all but it was always something to do when you were bored and there was no other things to do. Another big thing was my grandma had just gotten us a new playstation 3 and now we weren't able to used it at all because there was no television. Not having a tv was bummer for me and I thought it was a huge problem when it really wasn’t.

When I got fired from my job over the summer I realized there wasn't a lot to do. I was bored. This led to me exploring the woods around my house.I found lots of things, old oil cans, empty budweisers, and coyote traps, but the biggest thing I found was a trailer.

Moving, for many people, can be a difficult process. A lot of the time kids have to switch schools and deal with the challenge of making new friends and getting used to everything new. Since my parents divorced when I was five years old, I can remember living in many different homes. My mother would rent out a place, live there for a few months, then meet a new guy and move on. For years, I hoped to myself that my mom and dad would get back together, like Nick and Elizabeth Parker from “The Parent Trap.” I knew, however, deep down that such a thing just couldn’t happen. My four siblings and I were dragged along, forced to go with the flow and adapt as quickly as possible. Up till she married her second husband, Tony. As young as I was,

Much of my life I have been an outsider. One could not tell this by solely looking at my life. I have a well-established friend group and was Prom Queen on top of that. I am also an officer of various clubs, which could not happen if I was disliked by my peers. If one looked closely, and had an almost omnipresent view of my life, they would see that despite these accomplishments, I have wandered through much of my life feeling alone.

My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider. When I was younger dealing with a learning disability, I have had a hard time making and keeping friends even to this day. I struggle with being a follower instead of a leader. My own adoptive father verbally abused me growing up and I also had kids in fifth-sixth grade who constantly bullied me. I still am reminded of an instance when the first day of fifth grade approached: I got on the bus and these older girls started making fun of my pants saying, “She’s wearing high-waters.” I was humiliated in front of my peers every day since than during those two years. After being bullied for so long I made a vow to myself to never forget the pain inflicted upon me on a daily basis.

Get me out of here. I know something is about to happen, I feel it in my gut. It's a setup for failure, really. A party at an estranged house on the edge of the city full of nothing but intoxicated and incapacitated teens. Something is bound to go down. I started to think of ways to get out without just bluntly saying it.

Prior to undergraduate and graduate school, the repercussions of academic misconduct were not a deterrent to me. The consequences of plagiarizing were not clear and concise in High School. I was a poor, intelligent kid living in an environment where fashion and economic class established one’s social status. I wanted to fit in. I was so obsessed with fitting in, that I used my academic gifts to promote academic misconduct. My peers had academic weakness. Theses weakness’ included, lack of confidence in their work, lack of preparation and lack of motivation. I exploited the areas of weakness of my peers for my personal gain.

I am the outsider. I attended beginner sailing camp with my brother, Kent. I had never stepped foot on a sailboat while my brother had sailed since the previous fall. He knew all the instructors because they were fellow high school sailors. I was in a whole different world: the sailing world. New terms like “line” instead of “rope” was being drilling into my head. All instructors and Kent continuously said, “There is no rope on a boat, only line.” The bonding of Kent and the high school instructors made me jealous and envious of their relationship. At that time I was the outsider, who knew nothing about sailing.

Tunnel view can blind anyone too naive to make an attempt to break out of its lies. Focusing on what was just in front of me made it easier and at times although I hate to admit it, it made it enjoyable. It's like I never processed what was going on outside that tunnel of laughter. The tunnel of me being with my friends, staying up late, and doing anything but put my mind at rest. While this might seem to be about me having regretful nights in which I undermined my parents it is not. To be honest that probably would have made it a whole lot easier than the truth. The real story is about my grandma being diagnosed with cancer and while everyone seemed to have lived a different life during it this is my perspective.

The gps says “ arrived “ and we are ready for the turn up. As we are looking for a place to park we come to conclusion that there are not any because there were so many cars. There are cars that are beaten up badly. Some cars have no hoods , some cars rear-view mirror are hanging as if someone just drove by and took it off. Finally I spot the perfect place to park and I hear a deep voice yell at me and say “ You might want to park on up the curbs some more because these people around here can’t drive .” I look up and see it was tall lady directing me and thought it was hilarious but I still took her advice. My girls and I hop out the car and head walking down to the event. There was extremly loud music that you could hear even if you were

I feel relaxed; I sit quietly on the bench, at the neighborhood park. I can hear the kids playing in the distance, the dogs barking, and the birds chirping. The smell of barbeque engulfs the air around me. I close my eyes and let nature take over.