Personal Narrative: Three Houses Later

One morning, i was in 6th grade, my sister and I wake up, and we are home alone. We heard large noises on the porch. We went to go peek through the curtain, and there was a man lying on our porch. I called the neighbors, and we both hopped the fence and they let us in. The cops had then been called, while the stranger was still on our porch. The cops arrive and get the stranger and his information. The following day, we found out the man was on probation. The significance of this day, was the neighbors, that we are good friends with, helped us out in the moment of panic, and my sister and I not knowing what to do. Transformation that created fear of this day, was when we were home alone getting ready for school around 10:30, and then having a stranger at my doorstep. Also, not knowing what to do at that one moment of panic at time.

Home Condition The home was really messy. It had a lot of dangerous and hazardous elements all around the home. As soon as I walked in I saw cocaine on the table, at arms reach for the children in the home. The mother had prescription medication lying all over the home:

The Festival return to Greenfield, MA after being in Turner Fall, MA for a couple of years. I had never been in the Art Block, but found one of their stages The Wheelhouse one to be inmate setting like you what you might find

I woke up and looked over to where Erik's mattress was, he was gone but I wasn't surprised. I laid my head back down and awoke about 15 minutes later. Erik was sitting on his mattress looking in my direction smiling.

The house on Plum Street was a tall and narrow building littered with rain battered fliers and miscellaneous bills like a house shaped pinata. A paper taped to the front door of a house can mean any number of things; a local bluegrass band was hanging fliers for a gig

I sat in silence for a moment and took a deep breath. This was my home, did I really want to leave it? Despite hating the place it still meant a lot to me. I found comfort in it’s small town ways. The familiarity of it made me feel safe. I could navigate up and down the streets blindfolded I bet. But I knew in my heart that it was time to go. I looked up at my dad and he was watching me.

Our small one story house lies on the west side of my school in Opal Street California. We have a three bedroom, two bath house. Our house is pretty small, but I still love it since this is the house I grew up in. Even though I am not one of the popular kids in school, and don’t have all the new high fashioned things; I’m still very grateful of everything I have.

This story most likely isn’t the brightest one of the many you have, but then again this story is based on a difficult time for me. I faced many hardships all at the same time at the age of nine; it was by far my hardest year.

It all started soon after I had turned 12. The relief society president in my ward was speaking in sacrament, and she mentioned the upcoming youth temple trip, which would be my first one, and encouraged every single one of us to find our own family names to take with us. She expressed to us the immense joy and ultimate pleasure she felt when she did work for her family, and I wanted to be able to experience those feelings as well.

My family is full of narrow-minded, supercritical Italians; they know what they like and what they do not like. When it comes to food and customer service, my family does not mess around. Growing up around that for so many years, I would say that I also carry those traits.

This picture means home to me because, not only is it one of the biggest attractions in New York City but I have a connection to it that represents home to me because. I am from Queens, NY, and it was pretty much quiet I moved to Harlem a few years ago and it was a different world that I had to get become adjusted to it. When I first moved here Times Square was a big part of my life, because I now lived less then 30mins away from it so I could visit it all of the time, and there is nothing like it in Queens. I would go there every weekend to shop, eat, go to the movies etc. I created many memories there and, I’ve become familiar with the streets so I can navigate times square and surrounding areas easily as I can do in my own neighborhood

Its 5am time to pack I can’t wait to get to Florida it’s going to be lot of fun. But im so tired but we still got to go

A Sense of Belonging A place that I often go and feel like I belong, is my cottage in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. My family travels to the cottage at least once a summer. Before entering the house, you are greeted by a nice yard and shed. The grass is greener than a Saint Patrick’s Day parade. There is a cobble stone pathway guiding one to an outdoor rocking table. When taking a step into the shed, a musty scent over takes your sense of smell. To some, this smell is not a good one, but to me and my family, it is the smell of the shed. The shed is full of outdoor activities, such as croquet, corn hole, mini golf and more. My siblings and I are able to enjoy time with each other, as we play games together out in the yard. Our bikes are tucked away into the shed, waiting for us to ride them. Beach chairs, umbrellas, and sand toys are all stored on a shelf attached to the ceiling. Next to the shed there is an outdoor shower, where we fill our water guns and water balloons before a water gun fight.

The HR department had their annual one on one meeting with staff that was mandatory. I would have called in sick as usual but since I’m living with Charles it was hard to do that since he was technically my boss. So hence why I’m sitting across Emma asking me

In the car ride home, I was confused myself. I was clueless as to why my dad looked so angry and my parents were bickering back and forth about something. I remember my dad screaming “I don’t fucking know why!!!” to my mom. When we got home my grandparents followed right behind us. My grandpa said to my dad “Ryan, what’s going on?” Agitated, my dad swiftly turned to face my grandpa replying “I got laid off! They told me there were too many workers, but they get rid of the guys who have been working there for years and know what they’re doing and keep the new guys they imported with no experience? I don’t understand!” My dad marched to our back steps and sat looking straight forward. Tears started to roll from his eyes. MY father revealed the teenager inside; he took his souped up Toyota pick-up and took off.