Personal Narrative: My Life With Arsen

As much I try to forget about him, my thoughts still hover back to Arsen.

The police took him away that night and the court gave his custody to his aunt and uncle. Not even a week with his new guardians, and his aunt divorced his old uncle. News broke thereafter that Arsen 's uncle was a drunkard and stayed home unemployed the entire time, surviving off food stamps and unemployment checks. Observing my ex-best friend, he probably fell into the wrong crowd during that time.

He never allowed me to explain my side of the story.

Pushing aside such meaning thoughts, I run up the front steps of the public library and enter disturbed. The stupid rain soaked most of my hair and it 's going to turn into a frizzy mess soon.

The struggle.

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The new few days, my friends and I peacefully work in the diner, fixing it to a great shape. Dad even offers to give us volunteer hours for our service which we take up since we need those hours to graduate. He doesn 't let me turn on the cameras just yet since they need an upgrade and won 't record a thing.

At school, I don 't understand the deal with Arsen 's group. Sometimes, they show up to school and other times they don 't, but they always managed to skip the Gym class.

My partner 's avoidance resulted in me partnering with one of the instructors ' himself.

The meanest of all.

Mr. Dexter.

"You 're squeezing the life out of me!" I complain.

"It 'll prepare you better if you ever encounter such a situation in the real world," he replies, holding me tight. In movies, breaking free of a bear hug from behind always seemed like a tough task to me.

Believe it or not, it 's impossible in real life!

I slam my foot down on his . . . Well, actually, I miss.

He casually observes other people.

I hate well-built people who attack me.

The next approach is trying to melt down in his rock hard arms, which obviously doesn 't work. Because one, I 'm not a slimy, slippery fish; two, his grip keeps me locked in a tight chamber as if I