Personal Narrative: The Cops

“The Sheriff´s office has issued a mandatory evacuation order for your area.” A phone call like that will get you out of bed in a hurry, and it’s something you don’t get used too. I grew up in Ramona, California, a small rural town with not much to offer. Mountains, farm animals, hillbillies and fires… all a part of Ramona.

“We have identified the body of Pamela Zimmerman, and we suspect there is foul play. The Bloomington-Normal Police Department is doing everything they can: I am sorry.” These words from a police officer are permanently etched into my head. Those simple fifteen words play on repeat throughout my head a multitude of times throughout the day, sometimes never leaving my head. As the wise holocaust survivor Viktor E Frankl once said, “When we are no longer able to change a situation- we are challenged to change ourselves.” I woke up on November Fourth, 2015 thinking it was going to just be a normal day; little did I know that I was about to be hit with news that would change my life forever.

My full name is Samantha Taylor Miller, I am a criminal justice major. I am from Little Falls, New York. I currently live in North Hall with my roommate, who is also my close friend from high school. Although Little Falls is only about thirty minutes from UC, I am glad I chose to live on campus because I have met so many new people as a result of living in the resident's hall.

Officer Gordon comes quickly up to me and says “Chief Lussen we found him” and that officer Miles is taking him into the interrogation room. As I take a second to myself and take a deep breath officer Gordon passes me files for the case. I walk towards the interrogation room but i wanted to look at him before I walked in and started interrogating him. So I looked at him through the observation mirror into the interrogation room and thought to me all my years of working as a homicide investigator this case is the case that has shocks me the most. 37 residents that live in the neighborhood and saw & even heard something or someone yelling on the street didn't even call the police.

On 06-09-2016 at 1103 hours I was contacted at the front desk of the Police Department in reference to stealing.

I attend John Jay College of Criminal Justice not only to further my education, but also to take care of my family. My mother passed away when I was only six years old; however, I have a brother, two sisters, a grandmother who knows what struggle is, and a father who cannot find the words to define his love for my mother. At no point she was hesitant about being a mother to her four young grandkids. I always knew she was an important part of my childhood, but I had never truly understood how she influenced me until a much older age.

I woke up to a police officer tapping on my window. I opened my eyes gladly actually to see a cop. I rolled down the window and before he was able to talk I told him everything about who I was, what happened, my mom, my foster home, I showed him the pictures the maps everything, I even told him that legally I wasn't able to drive. His first word he said to me was “Wow.” Literally I was about to explode at him I just told him my whole life and he said “Wow.” Before I could tear him apart he said “I can help you get home, why don't you get in my car.” Without even saying a word I stepped out of the car took the blanket and re shoved everything in it. I threw it in the backseat of the cop car and then sat down in the passenger seat slammed the

I will not stop until I make the world a safer and better place. Maybe it'll be done by me being a prosecutor and help bring justice to the families who have been hurt. Maybe I’ll be a police officer and work my way up to a detective, or maybe I’ll even be a forensic psychologist and testify in court for the prosecution. It’s obvious I don’t know exactly how I’ll protect my people and make the world safer, but I am determined to do so; I will not give up on making my dreams a reality.

I used to think a police station was open and civilians walked in and got a glimpse of the offices and the officers doing their thing. When I went to the Missouri City Police Department There were locked doors and a clerk sitting behind a Plexiglas window. The premise was very secure. I met with Lieutenant Russell Terry, who was in charge of the ride along program, and finished signing waivers. Then I was assigned to Officer Gloria Villarreal.

She carries symbolic bracelets and tangled up headphones and torn playbills. She carries crumpled sheet music, a highlighted play script, a rusty gun and holster, an old calculator, worn out journals for writing fragmented lyrics, passionate feelings, unforgotten memories, and so much more. Twice or three times a week she carries packets of law and a lunch that was packed that morning. She carries a water bottle that is always half empty, or much like herself, half full, depending on how you see it. Wyatt carries the priceless shark tooth necklace she gave him, locked away somewhere unknown. Hannah carries the cheap but meaningful books that she gave her, unread but still valued. Her mother carries the candy she gave her, hard but sweet, a reflection of her soul. Something they all carried in common, was that they all carried something that was given; taking turns, they carried pieces of her shattered heart.

My pursuit of Kelly began almost a year before we met. I was at one of my best friends Ryan's house and I noticed Kelly's picture was on their wall. Immediately I asked Ryan's girfirend, Rugila aka Roo, every question she would tolerate to answer.

The bright white screen fills the room as I hold the remote up to the TV. I flick continuously through the channels, hoping something will take my fancy. I pause on a breaking news story. The voice of a woman fills the air as she explains. ‘A runaway escapee and murderer last seen heading towards the South end of Australia has disappeared. Anyone in the areas of’, I reach for the off button as the mumbles of voices drown out as the TV turns off. I put the remote down and shut my eyes. The dark patterns and swirls fill the darkness as I fill my mind with the endless possibilities from some of the deepest parts of my mind. I replay the series of my day over and over in my head. Replacing the mistakes in the day and presenting myself with what

The sun was shining and Bianca was going through her family memory book, as she flipped and turned the pages of the memory book all the memories of her dad came flooding in. Bianca loved her dad, that was until he left her without saying anything, no “goodbyes”, no explanation, and no apologies he just walked out of her life just like that! Ever since then Bianca found it difficult to let other people into her life. Holding back tears Bianca put the memory book back on the shelf quietly, she then went outside to go take a walk and clear her mind. Going outside was not working in Bianca's favor, every corner she turned Bianca would see kids playing with their father and laughing, Bianca could feel her cheeks burning as the tears rolling

I look around the dark room, watching my allies. One sharpening one of his swords, another punching a bag of sand. And another boy in the window looking down over the city. I sit in the corner, just watching them. All I can think is, how did I become a fugitive of the entire country? I stand up and wander to the door.

I was at my grandpa's ranch. It was a nice, cool, breezy afternoon. My uncle and I had just finished our walk from our hunting trail. We didn't find anything but little birds. We arrived at the house and my Tia shouted to us from inside the house " Did y'all kill anything", we quickly replied "No". She was not upset or anything because we already had lunch which was barbecue.