Narrative Essay On Homeless Kids

When I was a kid, my parents were generally strict about who I was allowed to stay with. This has always baffled me in a way I was never able to understand. Occasionally, they would allow me the chance to stay with a friend but only because my parents were acquainted with theirs and, even then, they still questioned it. After hours of begging and pleading with them, I would finally be allowed the chance to leave my house and it never felt so good to have that opportunity. Although they allowed it, I was still on what I would say was a “tight leash”, and I would get the occasional call from my parents to check up on me and see how I was doing.
I still question why it was so difficult for my parents to trust me. As I look back on it, I wonder if it may have been to protect me, the long years that my parents had to deal with my brother, or even the years my parents spent raising foster kids and watching them repeatedly make bad choices causing theirs and my parents lives to be much more difficult. The kids that my parents have kept over a few years have had very troubling and difficult lives. The kinds of kids they kept ranged from homeless children that were taken from their parents to kids that had been sexually abused by their own parents. With some of the most unfortunate things that have happened to a few

I had only heard about partying from a few friends that I had and they encouraged me to do as they done and join them for a night, and so I did. I’ll never forget that night. The first drink I took, I thought it was the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted, but I didn’t want my friends to think badly about me, so I kept drinking. Although I thought it was the fun and cool thing to do at the time, I still questioned whether or not this was a good idea for me to participate in an activity such as this. I pushed that thought to the back of my head not only on that night, but on other nights as