Personal Narrative: Violence, Screaming, Emotional Break

As the Frost Festival finally drew to a close, the excitement of the frost fae, both royal and non-royal, began to wane as the festivities and parties died down, and the frosty multicolored flags of the various frost fae Clans were taken down and folded neatly for storage until the next Festival. I’d been working as a Frost Guardian for over twelve hours protecting the princess of the Snowflake clan, and, even though I thought that I was going to be beyond exhausted and more than ready for bed, I still felt strangely wide awake and even a little buzzed with adrenaline, like I’d gotten energy from the remnants of the festivities that had happened around me and the fact that I was finally training in the real world as a Guardian.

was present at home, my mother attempted to keep the peace. Emotionally, he would erupt in angry over the slightest things. At times, my father subjected violence against my brother and I. He physically abused my brother and emotional abused me. I recall that one night, when I was seven years old, my brother and father were arguing. In a rage, my father hit my brother repeatedly and once he was done hitting him. He threw my brother outside on the porch. I remember that night because it was freezing. My brother had no shirt on and my father locked him out. I cried and so did my mother. After ten minutes of my father blocking the door he eventually walked away and unlocked the door.

When I entered as a first time student at UB, I was also exiting an abusive relationship that had become violent. I had very little support and lacked financial resources. I began counseling at the counseling center at UB and continued with classes while also working to support myself. I experienced an overwhelming amount of anxiety and felt uncomfortable on campus from the presence of my previous partner who was also a student at UB. My grades slipped and the opportunity to withdraw passed.

During the third season of When Calls the Heart, I became the unofficial interviewer of the Hope Valley Kids, probably because I interviewed so many of them. And Jaiven Natt was definitely in that group. With his return to the series this year, we have continued to see his skill and character expand and deepen, so I recently had the supreme opportunity of chatting with him yet again, and this time, we had a decidedly different, but engaging interview covering a wide variety of topics.

“On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character, or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always uphold the constitution, my community, and the agency I serve.” This is the oath average citizens take right before they become police officers. The oath shows us why police officers are here, they are here to protect us. The police, and other Government officials, should use police brutality because, if the same people who are supposed to be protecting us are hurting and killing us, then regular citizens are not going to respect laws and authority.

A couple of years ago, one night, I was about to propose to my girlfriend before an nfl game tbh, when my roommate Joseph barged into the room out of nowhere, tripped and fell over, breaking a glass table with his face. Totally ruined the mood. Now, I didn't know Joseph THAT well, don't even remember where he was from, but let' just say I put my plans on hold to help him through his injuries.Joseph had gotten a big glass shard in his eye, making him completely blind in that eye. He was walking around with one of those cotton pads on his eye for a couple of months. Then suddenly, he disappeared, along with my girlfriend .Apparently they'd bonded during the time after his injuries, and eloped together , left me behind without as much as a note.

An interesting event occurred early Saturday morning near the town square in Pittman County. A tractor tire exploded and blew a man onto the top of a Standard Oil sign. The man’s name will be kept anonymous to protect his identity, and we are happy to report that the man is alive, although he attained some injuries, and it is possible that he will have permanent damage to his hearing.

I’ve been trudging along for what seems like hours. I lost count of my steps sometime after my car broke down. When I look around all I see is an almost tangible grey curtain hiding everything except for a small segment of the highway. As I look forward the dark grey of the asphalt blends into the fog. I have no Idea what time it is when the fog rolled in my phone died. Without a clock, any length of time seems to go on forever, especially when the sun is hiding behind the fog. I just something I don’t understand about my situation, there has been no change in light since the fog rolled in. Same brightness the whole time. It’s almost like it’s not that I can’t tell time is passing. It’s that time isn’t passing, but that’s impossible.

Growing up, I lived in a small community where poverty was an issue. Within the low-income community, drugs, crime, and education lacked. There were many people unemployed, lacked health coverage, and financially unstable. One of the major issues in the community was the use of illegal drugs. The substances damaged people's lives, due to addiction. The drugs included heroin, marijuana, and cocaine; the list can go on and on. From future football players to basketball players, I watched all these superstars turned their lives upside down. I watched players that had the privilege to play for top universities lose their scholarships because of the use of illegal substances. I even watched one of my own, my uncle.

Insanity. It seems like everyone in the world that we live on is in some way going insane. People say that global warming, politics, terrorist attacks, money the list goes on and on, they say that those are real problems. But they aren’t actually problems the real world problem is the world itself. I never really noticed the issue until Rosalie was sent to be surrounded by the particularly picked insane people. It isn’t fair. It isn’t her fault. If only I knew what the “plan” was I could’ve saved her from making a mistake. It’s too late for that now. Now she spends her days in a padded cell with her arms crossed and safely secured. It should’ve been me in there, not her. It’s my fault. I have to save her.

I never fit in during my childhood, I always wanted to do my own thing but I was never allowed to. I was trapped in the constraints of convention. My own parents tried to change me, my own parents made me go to therapy, my own parents hated me. I had nobody that I could talk to, I was bad in school and that never changed. All I ever wanted was to travel the world my whole life, but no, my parents forced me to do exactly what they did in life so that I’d be successful. They didn’t understand that individuals should be able to live the life they want, then again not many people realize the importance of living the way you want to. “Go to school, go to university, get a good job, get married and have kids.” That’s all I ever heard from anyone,

In my dreams last night I found myself sitting at the dining room table. Like so many times years ago, my report card spread open on the table in front of you.

“Would you stop kicking me!” I screamed ferociously at Cameron Whelpley who was kicking me in the shins for no reason.

I am a former student of High School, while I was a student at there was a time where a teacher got angry at me over a simple misunderstanding over food and screamed at me at the top of their lungs for several minutes this is a form of emotional and verbal abuse to a child. As a child I was sensitive and timid and disliked conflict, because I grew up in an environment where there was much conflict and as such I avoided it as much as possible. As I grew up in elementary school I was bullied by other classmates, people would push me from behind or trip me so that I would fall down or spread rumors behind my back but I was never harassed by a teacher because I believed them to be above such things, it turns out I was wrong. As a teenager I was

In the techonological age a teenager, such as myself, with no cell phone, Ipod, or “Smart”