Personal Narrative: A Time At Work

In the early morning, before the sun crested itself over the horizon to form a hazy red and orange sky, I awoke, Immersed in a dull sense of fear that had accumulated greatly over the past year and a half while working at the Loray mill that was nestled in the small town of Gastonia. The population was nearly seventeen thousand in the year of 1929 and the town guessed it would be approximately doubled in around 10 years, but I had my doubts. Things were starting to take a turn for the worst. At one point, the fear I felt nearly rattled every bone in my body and threatened to snatch my breath away at any given moment if the timing was right. I was deathly afraid of losing my job like hundreds of men already have, as well as terrified of being unable to provide for my wife and children, being evicted from my home, or having to move away to find a new job... Now, this insensible distress was replaced with greater, stronger emotions that engulfed my entire being.
Aggravation, rebellion, and fearlessness swelled up inside of me and reminded me of the old soccer ball my co-workers and I used to kick around throughout our break time at work. Well, back when we had one. Nowadays, instead of having our lunch break of an hour or so, where we could observe our children playing with toys in the front

Many of the workers have resorted to striking and protesting against the Mill 's unfair treatment involving work and pay, and most of the riots I 've seen or heard of were quickly shut down by police who were now paid no not only patroll our villages owned by the Mill that most of us lived in, but the workplace as well. Ever since the retaliations started, the staff kept close eyes on us, making sure the people currently working don 't mess up, step out of line, or stand up and refuse to work. If that happens, they 're told to sit back down and continue to work, but depending on who 's shift it is, they 'll fire you on the spot and escort you out. I 've seen it happen with