Personal Narrative: My Decision To Help The Disabled

I never knew that helping someone could cause so much trouble. Since young, my parents had been stressing the need to help others so much that I sometimes wonder if I was born to help. Of course, they had been setting good examples for me as well. Whenever there was a charity that requires large amount of money to help the disabled, or simply our neighbour who needed someone to look after his pet while he was overseas, my parents would be the first on the list offering to help. Their influences on me impacted me so much that I was sometimes called 'the nosy one ' in school, for I had offered my help to every single event. This time round, as usual, I offered my help. Never did I knew that that would mean a big trouble for myself.

It was

"Alright, come on in. Follow us closely."

They led me deeper into the warehouse. I realised that the 'warehouse ' was actually a gambling den. The whole area was crowded with people. Some were smoking, while the others were taking drugs. that observation led to to wonder what could the parcel package contain. As soon as I figured it out, it was too late to flee.

The police alarm sounded off. I could see everyone panicking, trying to escape through the back door. however, those were futile attempts. The police had cordoned that whole area. Policemen stationed at both the front door and the back door. No one could escape. Soon, everyone, including myself, was caught and taken to the police station for further interrogation.

I told the police everything that I knew. At that point of time, the only wish I wanted to come true was that the police could believe me. They seemed to be convinced by my plight. Similar to what I had expected, that parcel package was indeed drugs. I knew I was in hot soup. The boy whom I helped was nowhere to be found. There was no witness to help me. This was a hopeless situation. I was later arrested and put into the boys ' home for 6