Personal Narrative: Weight Of Guilt

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

After my mother's head was blown off, her body axed nearly in two, people in Kinnakee wondered whether she'd been a whore. At first they wondered, then they assumed, then it became a loose jingle of fact. Cars had been seen at the house at strange times of night, people said. She looked at men the way a whore would. In these situations, Vern Evelee always remarked that she should have sold her planted in '83, as if that was proof she was prostituting herself.

So then I go, and find Mrs. Price and tell her, ¨The red sweater wasn't mine. I knew adults weren't right all the time.¨ So I yell at the top of my lungs to Mrs. Price, ¨YOU BELIEVE ALL THE STUDENTS AND YOU ALWAYS YELL AT ME, I WISH YOU NEVER TEACHED HERE, I JUST WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE.” Then Mrs. Price tells me to go to the office. So I stomp my feet on the floor ,and go to the office. When I get into Mr. BobbyJoe’s office i talk to him and tell him what had happened. He says to me, “Now Rachel I know how you feel if I were you I would do the same thing. So what i want you to do is to go and tell Mrs. Price your sorry while I go and call your parents then come back.” So I go back to the class room and tell Mrs. Price that I was

You've probably heard of a message in a bottle, but have you ever heard of the "Devils Message"? Probably not because it was a ridiculous game my brother, sister, and I came up with when we were bored. We played this game only a couple times but only when my cousin Maxx came to visit did we decide to record ourselves in the event that something funny would happen. The day started just like any other normal fall day. My cousin Maxx was visiting from Johnstown so we were looking for something to do. All of a sudden Joe got the bright idea to show Maxx Devils Message. We all got dressed and headed out for the swing set.

I believe there is a value in being able to turn an everyday event into a spectacle that’s worth reading into. With that being said, Chills rattled through my bones as the automatic doors opened before me; I’m underdressed. Upon first glance I notice the glint of the interior lighting reflecting off the marble-white tiles. I take note of the scent; Freshness. I think of the convenience of having these natural grown resources surrounding me. Before now, I would never have the luxury of purchasing an out-of-season delicacy at a location so near my residence. Frozen, I was astonished by the sheer amount of ripe, mossy green avocados that sat in a pine wood container before me. I muster the courage the to extend my unworthy

    We are told from the time that we are young to take responsibility for our actions, but there are some kids out there that blame their responsibilities on others. Even though they don’t want to take responsibility for their actions someone else has to take responsibility. When being able to be part of the stories you learn things that you wouldn’t ever be able to learn without being part of it. I have learned things the hard way just to find out that I shouldn’t have been doing it in the first place. Here are some thing that I learned from this situation.

ISALITA is always there to get me over some ridiculous event. An exam gone awry, a terrible week that screams, "If I'm ending right now, a martini better be involved," or when my deep cravings for fish tacos stop me down Liberty, it's always there for me. On one such occasion, one of my fave people in the world with whom I happen to share a cohort in not ONE, but TWO schools, decided we needed to treat ourselves. Mid-semester shenanigans and a wide-open schedule allowed for such an occasion.

i apologized about this , I didn't realize it was that many hours he, but I know there would be some over time this week we had couple of incident , the day we had to do Eric and ken write-up I had him site in both , also the Sunday training added to it , he also went over Tuesday when we did the Ops meeting , this is not the norm I will keep the hours in check

It was 4th grade. I spent the afternoon after every school day in the after-school care program. After moving to a new school in the middle of 3rd grade I had finally found my niche and my friends. Though I certainly would have preferred going straight home, I enjoyed my time in after-school. There were adults to help me with the homework I hurriedly put together and plenty of other kids to play with. As with most childhood venues, there were kids I really liked, those who I was completely oblivious to, the ones I did not really care for but I could ignore, and then there was Christian. Our first contact was on the blacktop, the after-school kids loved to play knockout, horse, or any other basketball game you could think of. Soon it became apparent Christian was a decent ball

Pulling into the parking lot was a lot more nerve racking than I thought. I could feel my body shaking from head to toe; trying to remind myself to take deep breaths. This was the first time I wasn’t playing in the game, and I had anxiety just like every spectator had for my team. Everyone, including me, was rooting for us to win, and I didn’t want to disappoint. It had to be 90 degrees that day, because I could feel the sweat dripping down my face as if I had just run a marathon. My nerves didn’t help either, because it just made me sweat even more. When I grabbed the handle to open the door, my hand almost slid off because they were so sweaty. My friend’s dad grabbed it, and opened it for me. After I walked in I was handed a yellow and black brochure that said “Seton Academy” in big bold black letters. I found my name listed inside next to all the 8th graders on my team. It was St. Agnes vs. Marsh, and it was going to be an exhilarating game. We had worked hard all season to stay undefeated, which led us to the opportunity to play in the championship that day. I walked into the gym which was about 10 degrees hotter than outside, because of the extra bodies stacked closely together, and that’s when it started.

I don't have anything to say really, I can't bring myself to forgive either you guys or me. I'm overreacting, I know that, you know that, but I have this kind of feeling that I shouldn't quite forgive any of us yet. But, in order for me to get to that point, we need to have a discussion in this group chat, preferably all at the same time, but separate times can work if needed. This sounds weird to me, like you're all crawling and begging for mercy in front of a king, like my forgiveness is valuable and an earned thing and it's not. It should not be an endeavor. Most of this is blame on me, I'm stubborn, like really obstinate. I kind of feel like we're drifting apart. And by that I mean, I'm veering away from the 4 of you as a group. I mean, I'm not even supposed to be

could say was, “Last night a friend of my was touched in a bad way by her dad and I don't know what to tell her, I don't know how to help her. She thinks no one will believe her and she doesn’t know who to tell.” Well to start it off he said he recommended that she went to CPS immediately and if she didn’t do that she needed to go to her mother. I started tearing up again and said her mother won’t believe her and he came up and started to wrap me in a hug and I jumped back as far as I could. “That just proved my suspicions, it wasn’t a friend now was it?” he asked me and I shook my head no and started sobbing. He slowly got up and locked the door, “I don’t know what to do, they were finally happy” I sobbed over and over. “You have to tell

I live approximately 15-20 minutes from my employer. I have two option routes essentially to get to work: 1) on a combination of State roads and 2) a two lane (one way in each direction) street with several small turns. The shortest path is the two-lane road, but I have to cross 5-10 stop lights. And this road can be somewhat congested, due to fact that there is an elementary school and high school with kids at the intersection crossing the streets, school buses making left turns at school entrances, a hospital and other travelers going back and forth to work. Furthermore, the two-lane road becomes even more congested when it rains. The state roads have fewer traffic lights, wider lanes, and turn lanes and off-ramps. However, more drivers

The clock struck nine a.m. on the fourteenth day of April 2015 and the courtroom fell silent. It was on this day that I, along with two of my sisters, went to court to face my uncle who was being charged with aggravated sexual battery against a minor under the age of twelve. It took massive courage and bravery to come face to face with the monster that was considered family up until that point. This is the day that I believe I transitioned from childhood to adulthood. I believe this because I had to stand up for what was right, whether I wanted to or not, despite the humiliation of confronting something I had long ago buried.

“I do not believe in a fate that falls on men however they act; but I do believe in a fate that falls on them unless they act.” (Buddha) Throughout history, there has always seemed to be a connection between what people do, and how those things determine their worth as people. While I have gone about living my own life, I have found a strange curiosity within figuring out just how this relates within myself. Do I have the ability to change my fate and who I am? Or was that predetermined already. It’s interesting to think about how much and little impact we have on every aspect of existence around us. It’s interesting to think about what it means to be anything at all.