Prestons-Personal Narrative

It was the beginning of October, and a 17-year-old teenager was hiding by a chain link fence. He had just stolen a purse from a nearby house, and a neighbor had called the police. An officer by the name of Elton Hymon had arrived and was trying to arrest the kid, whose name was Edward Garner. Garner began to climb the 6-foot fence, and Officer Hymon,

I got into the small car and started it, hoping I was doing the right thing. The rumble of the car was the opposite of calming, as I needed it to be, I was going to help my love-Clyde Barrow. The small car shuddered and then stopped as I pulled up to the jail, I sat in the car thinking before getting out, what if I get caught. I ignored these thoughts and got out of the car. I walked to the back Clyde’s stolen V8 Ford, I popped the trunk hearing the *click* as it opened. I grabbed a handgun and hid it in the pocket hidden by the hem of my dress, the dress immediately felt heavier. My dress sweeping the dirt off the ground, distracted me as I sauntered- to avoid any accusations- towards the door of the jailhouse. I walked in with a bright, welcoming smile- waving at the guards as I stopped at the secretary’s desk.

Charlie closes the door and flops on his bed.”God I hate this place.” He thinks. “The sink is leaky, the walls are too thin, and the heater is always being “fixed”. I get home from work late at night and the neighbor above me is always blaring music. I’ve only lived here a few weeks and im already at my wits end. I haven’t bothered to meet any of my neighbors save the one that i am constantly asking to turn down their music.” He looks up at the ceiling and sighs. Thats when he hears a strange noise at first he thinks it must be one of his neighbors televisions but then it gets louder and he recognizes it as the sound of someone crying. He leans his ear against the wall he thinks it coming from. The sounds he hears when he presses his ear to the wall nearly break his heart and he immediately feels the need to comfort, to say something.

“With the knife I had, I opened his chest to that place…. I inserted the knife point, and with great difficulty, at last i pulled it out”

Green, black and white, the colors we represented from kindergarten on. The pride we had for Southlake Carroll was indescribable. Our Friday nights consisted of the lights of the stadium and families who eat, sleep and breathe “The Tradition”. We were raised to become the Dragons or in my case the endless hours of training to become an Emerald Belle wasn’t an option, it was a lifestyle. Although Southlake is known for great academics the favoritism was very noticeable. I was spoiled with the leniency of the teachers who felt sympathy for my fourteen hour days. I got free passes and green lights, not gonna lie, it was pretty great. When I got hurt and my training to become the highly idolized Emerald Belle came to an end, so did the free passes.

He ran into the clearing, where he heard the horse, with revolver drawn anticipating a fight but all he saw was Captain O’neill stood over a still, lifeless body. “Captain! What happened? Are you alright?” Even shouting it looked like the Captain didn’t hear Samuel. “ Captain! What happened?” Samuel was slowly approaching the Captain now, revolver still drawn.

The night was another quiet one , the morning even more quiet . No more family sit downs at the table , just coffee brewed from whoever wakes up first and help yourself to breakfast. I sat outside the porch with my coffee , first day of October with the fall feeling in the air , I was looking at nothing , I pulled out my cell phone and decided it was time to tell Trever my input on who is doing this. I heard his phone ringing , but it went straight to voice mail , I left a long message explaining everything , hoping this will get him to look into her.

The first steps I took outside of my comfort zone were on the same city grounds where Rutgers lies. Not far from New Brunswick’s busy main roads, there is a quaint little store called the George Street Co-op. It is a non-profit health foods store and cafe that is run by its members and student volunteers. Their Sweat Equity program for students is what called my attention first while searching for places to volunteer; the more I researched the co-op, the more it drew me in. I fell in love with the store as soon as I walked in; there was a poem painted on the stairs leading to the cafe and a large chalkboard displaying a well-known quote by Hippocrates saying, “Let thy food be thy medicine…”. Flyers urging people to “Ban Fracking Now!” and to look for the “Non-GMO Project” label covered the message board. I knew that this was the place where I could find people with the same interests and values as me.

This was the last town we had to cover. I whooped as it came into sight. One more town and then I could go home to my dear ol’ ma and pa, my Louise. Everyone was optimistic, laughin’ and messin’ around, ready to go home.

When I was 14 years old, I found myself in a bit of trouble. Acting out, being disrespectful, starting fights, dropping out of school, fighting with my mom, running away, etc. I ended up getting in trouble with the law, and became a warden of the state of Oregon. Placed in Donald E. Long (juvenile corrections facility), B.G.A.S. (Boys and Girls Aid Society), as well as Pettygrove (home for troubled girls).

One Monday morning young Joseph Russell was lying in bed at 6:30 in the morning. He was rolling around because he had a nightmare about LeBron and the Cavaliers would destroy Golden State in game 5 of the NBA finals. Joseph was in so much shock he began to profusely sweat. Before he knew it his room began to fill with sweat. Unfortunately, Joseph did not know how to swim and was soon submerged in sweaty water. Joseph immediately yelled out “My water wings from my 6th birthday,” which had been last week. He swam to his closet and found them, putting them on while struggling to breathe. He rose to the surface, gasped for air and managed to get out of his room into the hallway. Josephs father, Owen, was so furious about his room being filled with

Today, we reached The Dalles. Nate told us we have two choices. Either we can float down the river, or we can go around Mt. Hood. We talked it over, and almost everyone agrees we should go around. I'm certain everybody remembers Ezekiel and the river, and none of us want to go through that again. So we start on Barlow Road, which will take us around the mountain, tomorrow. Things aren't getting much better here. We are all so tired. I think that once we get to Oregon, I will just sleep through winter.

Once he got into the forest he took a sharp left and then a sharp right to lose the men chasing him. Once he finally lost the men he sat down crying and not knowing what to do. Bailey heard some motion in the bushes to his far right. he stood up and backed up against the tree. “Who’s there?” he said sheepishly.

PJ’s home from school for the weekend, and mom is so happy. A marathon game of Skip Bo, lots of laundry and good food prepared by PJ. He’s a year away from receiving his degree in gaming design and development and now he’s talking about attending culinary school. Love you son, but only one degree, You get to do the next one. You are an awesome chef. The red snapper you grilled for dinner tonight is mouth watering good.

A car had pulled up in my driveway. Upon exit of the vehicle I could hear what seemed to be two male voices and one female voice. Every now and then I could make out pieces of their convo. I gathered that one was the relator, and a couple named Sam and Ben. There convo was very short outside.