The First Kill
Every night I was forced to walk alone through the City Park. During the day it was a normal place, a huge shady park lined with old, oak trees. I was never afraid of it during the day but in the night it was dark and daunting. I would fear walking through it and always hoped there was someone with me. My dad worked late hours and there was no one at home in the evenings. I was only fifteen so I needed a place to go after school. Every day I boarded the bus from the school gate and after a long boring ride reached the City bus station. After that, I walked through this enormous dreaded City Park to reach Aunt Angela’s house. I waited there endlessly for my Dad to come and take me home. I was not very fond of Aunt Angela but had no choice.
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I remember her sad lonely face, holding my hand and waiting for my dad. He was too busy with his work and life and had no time for us. He was never there when I needed him the most. Not even for my biggest award at school even though he had promised to attend. We were always left stranded alone awaiting him. Mum never showed her anger or hatred, but patiently waited. And finally one day she left home and never came back.
It was a cold winter evening. I had just got off the bus and slowly headed towards the lonely park. Behind me was the flurry of people and buses moving around the bus station. Ahead of me was this huge, lonely stretch of darkness. Like any other day, I was going to Aunt Angela’s house, where I would just wait endlessly for Dad. Today’s evening was supposed to be special and full of celebrations. My schoolmates had been trying to cheer me up the whole day. It was my birthday, I had turned sixteen today. But in reality, there was no party or celebrations. I was alone, walking through this lonely hell. My mind was going through a lot of emotional challenges. I was experiencing fear, loneliness, pain and anger all at once. Out of the corner of my
The car squealed to a stop and I jumped out of the dinged up vehicle. I ran on the cement ramp that led me down to the Wilmington Friends Meeting’s undercroft door like I would usually do on a Wednesday evening. Grasping the cold metal vertical bar in my baseball sized fists, right over the left. I yanked, then again and again as the door clanked repeatedly. Realizing the door was locked I twirled around.
The narrator describes, “And on his way he would see the cottages and homes with their dark windows, and it was not unequal to walking through a graveyard” (174). No one was outside interacting, they were all in their homes on their electronics. More specifically, it was always quiet and lonely on the streets at night. As the narrator mentions, “The street was silent and long and empty, with only his shadow…” (174).
Imagine your parents not loving you. Imagine the people that were supposed to provide for you, kicking you out onto the street to fend for yourself. Imagine your friends being too disgusted to talk to you. Imagine living your life constantly afraid. Imagine being terrified of the police, people that were supposed to protect you.
Locked in a dormitory which became my only survival resource, for the disaster and dystopia that surrounded me in every inch of my eye, and which soon became my worst fear in the entire planet, death. Terrifying, frightening and alarming was the ambiance that was perpetuated in my conscience. Unimaginable nights when a single room became the aegis of my brother and myself from the violence and murder, which suddenly portrayed as hell in my perspective. Liberty and freedom had become slavery, and for one moment, I even thought if this was worth a better future. Worth risking the lives of my family.
I woke up on an especially cool winter morning and looked over to my mother’s side of the bed. She was not there, I knew that, but I secretly wished she was. I swung my legs off the bedside and rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get myself ready for school. This was a typical morning for me.
My story takes place in Santa Fe, New Mexico. A 21 year old girl, with long brunette hair with a lean tannish body to her is moving with her family to help her mom and her dad run a ranch. At the time her family was moving, Sophia was healing from a heartbreak. Her fiance and her have been engaged for year and a half. When the wedding day come around her fiance left her at the altar, and he left the country.
Sparks of excitement and stress exploded in my body as I opened the door. I took my first step to freedom then sprinted down the stairs almost tripping and falling flat on my face. I ran to nearest train station and hopped onto the back where i curled up in the corner waiting for the long road ahead. I didn’t know where this train was taking me and I didn’t know what I was going to do when I arrived
The biggest memory that I had was when I was sent to foster care. It started years ago when my dad decided to drink every single day and social services didn’t think that was something kids to be around so my sister and I had to stay with my grandma for a few months. We couldn’t stay with my mom because she didn’t have a house or a job and none of her boyfriends wanted kids in their house. My mom didn’t like us staying with our grandma because she’s not a nice person to be around.
March 17, 1838 Dear Diary, Today while sitting in the crispy cold weather, with the clothes that now resembled rags, I sat pondering my life. My face now covered in the unpleasant texture of dirt and smut from the factory; now appeared to have become a part of m. My hands disarrayed and my cracked hands bandaged lay tight in my lap and now mirrored my life. I haven’t any parents to speak of so I found myself this alley where I write to you. Not far from work I await the loud bell to alarm me of my next shift down at the factory.
The air was crisp and cold. The autumn leaves crunched under my feet. This was the day that my adventure began. I walked down the meager road that ran through the heart of my city, and I shook, both from nerves and a lack of suitable clothes. It was only October but there was already snow on the ground.
The faint buzzing of an old street light in the distance was the only sound that filled the air. The loud dogs that paced yellow lawns and fenced in porches were deep asleep. It was as melancholy as it could get. My hand trembled, I looked down at the paper weapon clasped between my fingers. I lifted my hand and pressed the cold cigarette to my chapped lips, long ago accepting the fact that I 'd never remember the taste of his mouth, in the same way I didn 't remember the last time my life wasn 't anything more than a huge fucking shit show.
I can 't help it. I lie. All the timeYes you can said Bob my older adoptive brother. Bob was the good one in my adoptive family, he never did anything wrong , he always had good grades, best in every sport. Then there was me, always getting into trouble for either telling lies to my parents or skipping class to go hangout with friends at In n out.
My Dystopia Just like any other day, all the citizens woke up. But not in the world they want to live in. I rose from the bed, and sigh deeply. I walked over to the window, and looked out. Another dark day.
Coming to Miami I can still remember that gloomy sky on October 21st 2001. It seemed like a normal day to me, yet that day would change my life forever. I remember my mother rushing around the house trying to gather my brother’s clothes while I just sat on the floor observing so much commotion around me. For an 8 year old, I was a very hipper child. I ran around the house, climbed trees, sat on the roof top which was 3 floors high.
After a while of gruesome writing I had finished my essay, The Outsiders. I had Soda and Darry read it and they both thoroughly enjoyed it. Soda said that it captured the essence of each moment perfectly and Darry said that it made him relive the experience. (Even though that might not be the best thing) It 's been almost 2 weeks since the death of Johnny and Dally.