Steven Walker's Home-Personal Narrative

“ I-I-I am so sorry, I also have family issues.” She said with a sad look on her face “My father was in charge of Auschwitz and he let my little brother Bruno die in a concentration camp…” she was cut off by the noise of dogs barking .

Tom walker who was unlikely appreciated by few has soon been forgotten. He earned his wealth in a very unjust way and had to pay. It is still said that his helpless soul can be seen wandering around the

It was the Saturday before the last week of first grade and my family and I were attending a kickstart into summer barbecue at Scott Shaw’s house. Accompanied by my mother, father, brother, and my father’s 20 plus mountain biking, “crunchy granola” friends and spouses, we all arrived with summer’s approaching warmth on our faces. Everyone shoveling food into their mouths, playing ping pong, pool and swimming, everything was going smoothly.

I listened to the weapon’s high pitched tone lessen as it discharged behind me. It didn’t take long before I heard the familiar beep notifying me that the weapon was harmless once again. From what was standing before me in my doorway (at that particular moment), I was happy one part of my body could still function. although, breathing was necessary, what was between my ears was what had more importance for now. What was standing in front of me had instantly froze my feet in place, had widened my eyes as far as they could go, and stopped my heart. I didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do.

“He's one of them stoners,” the man replied in a quiet voice, “Dangerous folk; never heard his real name, but people around here call him: Walker.”

I woke up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and went down stairs and called my friend Joey Gliech and said “Today is the day!”

I HAD BEEN ASLEEP QUITE SOUNDLY FOR A COUPLE HOURS, WHEN I WAS AWOKEN BY AN ALL TOO FAMILIAR SOUND. IT SEEMED LIKE EVERY TIME MY BRAIN REGISTERED CERTAIN NOISES - EVEN WHEN I WAS DEEP IN SLEEP, IT SENT OFF A PANIC TRIGGER THAT FLOODED THROUGH MY MIND. THIS WAS ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

The agency I chose to interview was MyHouse at 300 North Willow in Wasilla, Alaska. Their mission is to provide safe shelter for homeless youth with a goal of connecting kids to a network of caring individuals and agencies able to assist them in becoming self-sufficient. They have a board of directors that meet regularly to discuss issues and where to go next with the agency.

“Me? Are you sure I’m the right person for the job, Mr. Wright?” He was still writing. He hadn’t even stopped to look at me. I shuffled the weight from my heels to the balls of my feet. “I mean this sounds more like something Anthony would do.” Mr. Wright’s pen stopped with exaggerated slowness he laid it aside and raised his eyes to survey me.

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.

“I’m not going to dinner with you. We’re not going to talk. You and I, we, will ever do anything together, ever -,”

Nobody told her not to go to the well behind Mr. Porters house, so she did. Sure, people would look down upon the action, some even calling it trespassing, but she didn’t care. Nobody warned anything about it, nobody directly, or even indirectly, told her not to go to her 96 year old neighbors house. They were either ways going to brush off the topic due to the curiosity of a four year old, and that was true. She only went to the backyard because she was curious, but she wasn’t curious for what your average 4 year olds would be curious for. It wasn’t the yapping dog that nearly scared her half to death when she entered the backyard through the freshly painted white picket fence. Nor was it the newly grown dandelions that scattered all around the emerald green yard. It was just the well.

“She can’t be around my house anymore. I’m afraid of what I’ll do to her. She did this to him. Don’t you get it? She took his eyes.”

Now after he ordered his food he sat down and ate. And after 15 minutes or so the man in the black coat walked in. Tom almost spit his food out from astonishment. The man who he thought wasn’t following him could be. So Tom got up and threw his stuff away and walked quickly out the door. And the man in the black trench coat was close to

It was saturday, October 2016. Me and my friend J.T pulled up to Michael Wood’s house. His mom Alexis was throwing a party. Because Mr.wood just got a promotion at work. And it was their last week here before they moved to Detroit. Over 1,200 miles away from where I live in Miami Florida. J.T and I hang out for most of the party. Until I saw Michael. I wanted to congratulate him and his dad. But it would be too sad. Hey Michael what's up, oh how's it going bro. Nothing much I replied. I really wanted to ask him about his dad's promotion so I