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Inventive Personal Story Essay

I remember when I had it all; when I woke up every morning with no worries. It had to change when I did the actions that had consequences that could change any man. All I could do now was keep my head up and remain loyal to myself. I tell myself that everything will be okay but the truth is that my soul is a glass house, that the Devil laughed and shattered. People look at me, as I look back with no emotion, and they wonder what was my story.

So the story goes, I was 12 years old chilling and smoking weed before I went and chose my fate. I hit the streets of Stockton with only one homie beside me. I had something to prove, so it wasn’t time to take me lightly. It was cold, about two in the morning on what I thought was a friday night. It wasn’t very long until I saw some scraps in sight, there was one standing outside and one in the liquor store. We had to do it fast before they noticed; we pulled up on them, jumped out the car and set it off.

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We heard the clerk in the background calling the cops; but we still continued beating on them until we saw blood was being spilt, and at that very moment I knew this was for reals. I wasn’t really tripping or felt no kind of remorse. When I fled from the scene, I was laughing as I saw them bleeding on the floor. I knew it wasn’t right but i couldn’t help the way I feel because I knew it was kill or be killed. Now on this day, I wake up thanking God that I’m living another day and ask for forgiveness for the sins I might have to make.

I wonder about the choices I made and then the alternatives I could have done. I can only go on with life by showing no emotions, as I remember what my life was and think about the road I have chosen. My memory goes back to when I was living with the family that I had to turn my back to; just because I wanted to protect them from the choices I’ve done. The choices that made me grow up too quick. With these thought in my head I get up and put on the shirt that some people say is too big, the jeans that I sag, and the shoes some people wish they had.

I then get my wallet and my items; just like any other day. I look at my wardrobe and notice that I have more clothes that when I lived with family. Then at my bed, when I remember when I had to share one with my two brothers. I then walk over to the mirror and see the scar on my face that my father gave to me. I looked into my eyes and I see that I don’t care, that I am better off this way. I head out of my small apartment that is under my neighbor, Jose’s name.

I walk over to his apartment, knock on his door, and when he comes out he tells me, “The zip of yay is in my whip. Get it and dip to,  he paused, pulled out a paper, and resumed, “to this address. Google it if you don’t know it. I did what he told me and I drove off in my 69 Malibu. I saw all of my homies posted around doing their job as I did mine. In this ghetto neighborhood, in which everyone knew who’s who and lives in broken down houses. I pass by the leader’s house and it just stands out and I wish that one day I could be just like him.

Everyone had nothing on their lawn but the leader, that we call Jefe, had flowers, bushes, and a baby lemon tree. I drove onto the next block, which is identical to mine and controlled by the same guy. I passed by the old gray public high school in which I might even graduate from. Everyone says that I have the grades to change, that with my 4. 0 GPA I could do anything I want. So I tell them that I rather trade in scholarships for hollow tips. But deep inside I truly believe that why I’m doing this well is because my inner goal is to change the way I live.

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Inventive Personal Story Essay
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Artscolumbia
I remember when I had it all; when I woke up every morning with no worries. It had to change when I did the actions that had consequences that could change any man. All I could do now was keep my head up and remain loyal to myself. I tell myself that everything will be okay but the truth is that my soul is a glass house, that the Devil laughed and shattered. People look at me, as I look back with no emotion, and they wonder what was my story. So the story goes, I was 12 years old chilling and
2021-07-13 03:42:45
Inventive Personal Story Essay
$ 13.900 2018-12-31
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