Inventive Personal Story Essay Example For Students

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 wasnt time to take me lightly. It was cold, about two in the morning on what I thought was a friday night. It wasnt 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. 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 wasnt 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 wasnt right but i couldnt help the way I feel because I knew it was kill or be killed. Now on this day, I wake up thanking God that Im 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 Ive 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 dont care, that I am better off this way. I head out of my small apartment that is under my neighbor, Joses 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 dont 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 whos who and lives in broken down houses. I pass by the leaders house and it just stands out and I wish that one day I could be just like him. .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 , .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .postImageUrl , .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 , .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:hover , .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:visited , .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:active { border:0!important; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:active , .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2 .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u0494322ec59b5a706a5182ce694210e2:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: What is the Meaning of Life? EssayEveryone 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 Im doing this well is because my inner goal is to change the way I live.