Personal Narrative

I rolled Devon in his wheelchair down to the parking lot to show him my new ride. The hospital always insisted on us using the wheelchair and was very strict about Devon getting up out of it when he was not in his room or in physical therapy. “Your mom got you this? Oh my goodness, it’s beautiful. How’s the sound system?” said Devon “totally bumping’.” I turned the key and cranked a beat that rocked the whole parking lot. Devon started to groove, nodding his head in time. “This machine is off the hook.” I lowered the stereo. “Amanda Hardison told me today that the student council voted unanimously to cancel the senior prom.” “What? That girl abuses her power.” “And then the plan is to combine graduation and prom into one event. They’re hoping it will give you extra time to be there.” Devon paused.

“Dang, I don’t know what to say. What about all the deposits at the hotels and with the photographers and stuff? All those things are nonrefundable.” “Amanda took care of it all.” “Jeez that Amanda Hardison’s a tiger.” I could see Dev was humbled that so many people were so supportive of him. “So, what do you think?” I asked after another quiet moment.” “I think I might ask “Amanda Hardison to the prom.” Dev saw my eyes shoot out of my head and he smiled from ear to ear. “Naw, just playing. What do I think of what?” “Well, do you think, you know …” I got all tense and serious. Dev and I never rapped about his recovery. “Do you think you’ll be able to