The sun was setting and it began to grow darker. It was a peaceful night. I walked on to the stone road. Kicking stones with every step I took. I zipped up my jacket and headed out for my nightly walk. Living in the country there's not necessarily a speed limit. Most people fly by without even thinking. Especially the neighbor's son, Ben. He would race down the road in his old, blue truck. It was still football season so he would rush home after every practice. Passing me mostly every night. He never hesitated to slow down, sometimes he would increase the speed just to show off. Being the player he was he would often stop to try to pick me up to go back to his house so we could "hang out." I refused and kept walking.
SWISH! I turn my head to the right with a grin and see my mom cheering as I scored my first points of the season. The last game of the season I scored my first points of my middle school basketball “career.” Now sit back and relax as you read the story of how I got my first points in middle school basketball.
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
On the Monday October 27th, 2014, for the first time in 4 years I did not wake up at 5:30 in the morning, I was not putting on a green skivvy shirt and shorts. There was no formation, no one that was higher command I had to report to, telling me where I had to go, what time I had to eat breakfast, what was I doing this day or what our platoon plans were for the day. There were no PT (physical training) I had to do this morning. Instead, I woke up grab a regular t-shirt, khaki shorts, and my two sea bags full of clothing and gear that I collected during my time in the Marine Corps. I threw everything in my vehicle and drove from Camp Pendleton, California to Quincy, Illinois. Within two weeks I was accepted to Southern Illinois University Carbondale. For three days, I stayed at the
went to sit down on the sofa. A few minuets later my food was ready
I moved to Fresno, California and worked as caregiver sometime in the summer 2012. I lived there for about 7 months then I moved to New York in December 2012. My friend Alvin Almonte invited me to work in New York because he said job opportunities were much better here and that New York is much more accessible. I lost my immigration status in November 2011, while I was in Arizona. In my contract, I was assured that after three years (supposedly 2009-2012), the employer would apply for my Green Card. This was clearly not the case. I was working as a temporary hotel worker with an uncertain status. I started to work as buzzer in a restaurant in New York. Currently, I am working as caregiver for the elderly.
Every student dreams of going to college, but once you are enrolled it’s a challenge to achieve the goal of getting the degree. Weather it has been a friend, family member, or even a neighbor they have their ways of handling the conundrum. My friend Kevin, recently graduated this past year, started of in Middlesex for two years, and then he transferred to Rutgers to finish his career. He graduated from Rutgers and now is an accounting major. Kevin is amiable, hardworking, and deft. During his time at Middlesex and Rutgers, he had a job at Apple, went to the gym, participated in many fundraisers, and volunteer at hospitals. All these task that he did engendered an issue. The issue it created was that he had no time to do anything. He would
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Personal Narrative There lay her limp body staring up at us. Her cold eyes were no longer
When I was younger I was not so smart and would do questionable stuff all the time. I would jump from boulders to other boulders, climb on top of chairs, and even try killing snakes I would find in our yard. One day I learned a lesson from going on one of my self proclaimed adventures with a good friend.
“Let’s go ride our bikes!” proposes my dad, and my eyes light up with eager excitement. I stumble down the stairs and skip out to the garage. Instinctively I walk over to my glossy pink bike, standing in the corner, presiding over all the other inferior toys. No sooner have I done this than my dad lifts it out from under my nose and begins to strap the helpless hostage to the back of the car. “What are you doing?” I chirp with a quizzical expression on my face. “We’re going to ride somewhere else for a change.” Explains my dad. Puzzled and curious, but undaunted I shrug my shoulders and climb up into the vehicle.
One sunny afternoon my friends and I decided to go on a road trip to a small resort. We packed everything up and decided on the way across the Wisconsin Bridge that we all wanted to go to the Wisconsin Dells. This car ride was about to be long because not everyone in the car gets along.
One day, on a normal school day, I did something incredibly reckless. I got away with it, but if I were to do it again, I don’t know if I would have gotten the same outcome. My and my friends were incredibly lucky we weren’t caught, but the reward was exceptional.
Leaving the bodies for last we walked down the drive to take a look. Several rifles and shotguns were leaned carefully again the big oak. Two handguns and some knives were on the grass in front of them. Four people dangled from a branch of the tree close enough to each other to bump like a weird wind chime. A young couple and the other twice their age at a guess from the gray hair and styles of dress. They were probably parents and a married son or daughter with their spouse. Other than being hung there were no injuries apparent on any of the four. From the condition of the bodies they had been dead about a day.
I was only 15 years old; imagine a little boy in a huge and beautiful city without parents, without family. A boy who thought he was alone in the world. Now, in the year 2021, I know I’m not alone. I choose to stay in Lima and this is why and how Lima grew until this year, 2021.
As the persistent, hot sun left beads of sweat on my neck, I ran along the pavement to my family’s apartment. I unlocked the door and, out of habit, I went to set my book bag on the couch. I froze. The couch was gone. In fact, everything was gone; all except a few cardboard boxes sitting on the dusty windowsill. It was only then that I noticed my dad sitting against the wall, eyes puffy and red. Before that point, the divorce never phased me. My parents had been quiet about their problems, keeping all the drama behind the curtain. It wasn’t until that moment, the moment I saw my dad break inside, that the divorce really set in.