Personal Narrative: Growing Up In Chicago

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One night, during the cold winter, I walked along the side walk to reach the local store down the block. As I walked out, before I can realize it, I was dropping down onto the concrete while bullets swiftly passed me. I then began to run back home, but I wanted to keep running. Away from Chicago, away from the west side. Growing up in Chicago, it was easy to assume that there was nothing different beyond the blocks of my streets. Everybody lived the same way and talked the same way; not many people was different. I made my own decision, at the age of 10 to not be another statics of my community. When my mother moved my family and I to San Antonio, I devoted my time to school and bettering my opportunity to go to a Tier one institution which

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