Washington DC: The Ordinary Day Of My Life

I was kidnapped. The men stole me from the toy section in Wal-Mart. Said they’d buy me a Barbie. They just had to find my mother, is all, so she could give them permission. I told them she’s shopping and that I know exactly where she is. When I realized they weren’t wanting to go in that direction, I got scared and tried to run. But they were strong. They gripped me a pulled me and told me they’d kill my mom if I screamed. Their grips on my wrists tightened as

Growing up in Washington D.C. in an area with high poverty, STI and HIV rates, and low high school graduation rates, I was afforded an opportunity to attend a prestigious private school in Northern Virginia. While I was grateful to be able to receive a wonderful education in a safe environment, I always understood that many of my peers in the Black community did not have this privilege. Particularly, supportive faculty members encouraged me to pursue an accelerated math track so that I would be prepared when I pursued a STEM career. As I reached a high math level AP Calculus BC, I was one of five girls and the only black student in this course. I realized that as I pursued a career that requires high level math and science, due to educational disparities, my classroom’s racial and gender demographic will become my norm. Initially, I did not view this fact as a potential source of motivation to help bridge this gap. Instead, this observation led to loneliness, insecurity, and depression because no one else in the classroom innately related to me, not just in this math course, but for over 14 years in one school, the loneliness can become psychologically damaging. Yet, this damage was the cost of a invaluable education and the juxtaposition of emotional suffering and academic preparation allowed me to graduate top 10 in my graduating class in college.

I reached in my pocket for my pen so I could sketch some flowers. I pulled out a few dollars bills, and I remembered my mother gave me money so I could buy some milk for her. I turned around and went to the grocery. I went into the milk section, grabbed a jug, and headed to the checkout. The man in front of me in the line was staring at me. He looked at me like I was a vicious beast. I began to feel uncomfortable. The teenage brothers behind me were rough housing and when one threw a punch, they knocked me with their elbow. I couldn’t keep my balance. I went diving towards the ground, and I hit the man in the back with my nose. He fell to the ground, holding both his arms like he broke them. I got up and tried to help him up. He was backing up in fear saying, “Monster, you monster.” Everyone began to stare and back away from me, even the brothers. It was completely silent. I could hear my breathing. I heard one of the employees whisper to someone, “Call 911.” Then I bolted out the front door. I ran as fast as my little feet could go. In the corner of my eye I could see people behind me. They were catching up to me. At this point, I knew I couldn’t run any longer. I started to stumble and then, I felt a hand hook my shell. I went flying back. After that, the moment was surreal. I knew my mom was going to kill me, if the police don’t first. I don’t even remember much of it

All I had on my mind was that my little brother was falsely accused of vandalism. When I woke up and went to school the following morning, I immediately got called to the office. There I found Branden, Bryson, and Jack. They are football players that cause a lot of trouble . As soon as I walked in, Jack said; “Jake did it and you know it.” Me, knowing this wasn’t true, raised my voice and replied, “You’re a liar and don’t be accusing my brother of something you didn’t know he did! You and your friends probably did it!” At that point, the principal and resource officer pulled the three boys into the office. Soon after, another officer walked in the door. “Emiley, come with me please.” he said. Once we walked into his office, he had the tapes pulled up from that Friday night. “Which one is Jake?” he asked. I replied, “Jake isn’t in it.” While watching the tapes, I saw a blonde haired girl, she reminded me of Anna. I asked the officer, “Who’s that girl?” and he replied “I can’t tell you, is there any reason your brother might’ve done this? Vandalism may be an act of revenge, a way of expressing a political opinion, or a means of intimidation.” At this point, I was so annoyed I got up and walked out. As I left, I walked past the football players as they snickered and laughed. While I was walking back to class, my phone vibrated. My mom texted me saying, Your dad and I are on our way to

My mom and I went to get our plane tickets for our first flight from Cairo to New York. Walking through the airport, I felt like I was an ant seeing all these giants—giants with mustaches, long hair, bald, and many people with guns. I was fascinated with the people that had the guns and the other weapons they had. I asked my mother what where these stunning people that wore all black and where very big. While my mom was quieting my little sister, she answered and told me those are the police. Walking to the waiting area, we waited an hour for our flight. My mom went to change my sister’s diaper and I left them and started

In Washington, DC I had the opportunity to be a part of "Fiesta DC". It's referred to fiesta because it takes place in the North West part of DC, also known as the most diverse part of DC. It's where all cultures and religions collide, also where most of the Hispanic and Latino people reside at. The festival is a full day event where the entire town of Mt Pleasant is closed and just reserved for the festival. The entire Washington, DC comes out to this festival to enjoy of different Latin American cultures. There are many events that take place such as the Día de los Muertos dance, local Latino artists perform, raffles and mini soccer fields. There's a large Latino presence at this festival each year, but there's people from all sorts of race

Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm clock went off at 8 in the morning on a beautiful Friday morning in Brockton. It was kind of hard to believe because Brockton was probably the most destructive city on the planet. Well, at least in my opinion it was. It was the month of May, which meant school is almost over. I was 9 at the time as well. I woke up and jumped right out of bed. I could smell the delicious pancakes being baked in the kitchen by my mother. I ate 2 and then got ready for school. I got dressed, brushed my teeth, washed my face and headed out the door, which was my usual routine every week day morning. I headed to the bus stop and on my way there, I had a bad feeling about something, like as if something were to go wrong, like something really terrible would happen to something. Or even someone. I tried to ignore it and get through this day as soon as possible as usual, but today was not like any other day, for something horrific occurred on this very day.

After working two jobs the whole summer before my sophomore year to earn money and prove to my parents I was responsible, I had the opportunity to go on what I though would be just a fun trip with my newspaper friends to our nation’s capital, Washington DC. Little did I know, this trip would be the most eye opening experience thus far in my life. When we weren’t at the journalism convention, we visited many museums, war memorials, the Washington and Lincoln monuments, and Arlington National Cemetery.

One day my mother had gone to visit her friend’s apartment down the street, she had been gone for a while, so I decided to walk to the apartment. Once I arrived, two Caucasian boys who I’ve seen once on my school bus were playing some games until they noticed me walking towards the building. One of the boys asked, “what’re you doing here?” I explained that we were looking for my mother. At this moment, I believe the other boy thought it would be funny to scare me by saying “my parents say I can kill people like you when I get older.” As he showed off his pocket knife and put it away. I didn’t get why he said that, but assumed he was just a bully trying to get me scared. Later that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said, his plan did work, and I got scared

It was like any ordinary Monday at our school, teenagers in the halls chatting, people eating during first lunch, and teachers instructing their fourth period classes. But everything suddenly changed when an unnatural looking figure approached the middle school. Slowly limping our direction, he seemed kind of pale, had ripped clothing, and was grunting something unintelligible. Mr. Pixton, an 8th grade science teacher, went to go see what the strange man was up to. When Mr. Pixton got to the mysterious man, the man charged and sank his teeth into his neck. In a panic most students started to run away and scream. While the teacher fell to the ground, the individual unexpectedly ran at another and bit them. As I realized what was happening,

I still remember it as if it was yesterday. It was September 26, 2011 a Friday which meant the end of the week for me and I was stoked. School just like every day was a hassle and a bore. I was a sophomore and then I wasn’t worrying about college or anything else I was just living life to the fullest or so I thought. This story begins on a Friday where we have our high school football games. I was on the sideline due to an injury I had received during practice, and was out for a few weeks. Once the game was finally over I stopped by and chatted with my friends asking them if they wanted to go do something after the game. Then all of a sudden a police officer came up to me. He asked my friends and me if we knew a student here by the name of Zach Scardina. When I answered him, he wanted to speak to me in private, but something didn’t seem right he said I wasn’t in trouble. So there I went walking behind him to the locker rooms that were recently cleaned out and abandoned. We walked him there were two chairs placed perfectly across from each other. I was told to sit down by the officer he had a grim look on his face in which I could tell something was wrong.

I am quiet coincided about my trips to Washington D.C. It’s my favorite spot to visit with all the tourist attractions, history, restaurants, and the people. I have been to Washington D.C three times in my life span. My first vacation times there were with my pregnant sister, father, and mother; we were there to visit my aunty and cousins. The second vacation with my 8th grade class mates to sight see and learn more about the districts history. Last! I visit again my senior year of high school to visit the same family.

On a lovely Monday my parents told me that we were going to go to Washington DC for spring break. I was very excited. When spring break finally came we packed up and drove to Washington DC. The packing was a little hard because I didn't know what kind of weather it would be or how much stuff to bring. It is always hard for me to pack, but I usually end up overpacking. When we were all packed and loading up thats when all the excitement came. The drive was 17 hours there and we were in a van. I sat in the very back with the stuff and my sister and brother sat in the middle seats. My other brother couldn't make it on this trip. My sister’s name is Abigail and my brother’s name is Neil. My parents took turns driving, it was going to be a long drive! The drive wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I usually don't sleep in the car but I slept a good 6 hours in the car. We watched movies for a little bit. On the way there it was cool looking at what towns we go through too to get to DC. We finally got there at 3:30 in the morning so we unpacked and went to sleep.

I flashback to walking out of my room, wiping my tired little eyes, and walking into the kitchen to see my Dad sitting down reading the paper and my Mom cooking all three of us breakfast. My Dad finished and put on his jacket and started heading out, while my Mom gave me my lunch box and I started to walk to the bus. Everything comes back to reality. I walk out the door, hoping to see the bus, but of course, it’s not there. I start to head out and down the street in the fog I see a bunch of people running out of a building, and hear screaming and gunshots ring out into the open streets. People falling to the ground and stained the snow with their bright red blood. I start to jog down the street, pull my rifle over and take it off of safety. And keep heading down the street. Thugs empty the building yelling slurs and other hate filled words at the people running. And the bleeding people on the ground. I’m behind a car, crouched down. I stand up, filled with anger and rage. “Put your guns down, and your hands up, NOW!” They just slowly turn around laughing, “Oh no…” I whispered to myself. They raise up their guns and start to shoot everywhere, a bullet hits me in my right shoulder, I get kneel down and

A typical day in New York started with mischief and forgiveness. It was foggy and very damp from raining the night before. Oliver, A supercat that fights city crimes, Saving lives all over the world for some justice. Oliver was having a ordinary day last tuesday, when all of a sudden his rival enemy showed up. Jack the big bad black and brown dog came roaring in. Jack trying to knock down Mrs.Betty, an old lady trying to cross the street. Oliver watching Jack trotting towards Mrs.Betty as she crosses the street. Oliver spins around using his magical powers so change into his super suit. A red and black shirt and pants with a huge circle and the letter “O” on the shirt. Soon enough oliver jumps straight into action using his super speed to go