Personal Narrative: Daddy

“Please, Daddy,” I voiced. Lefty places his hand on my chin, gently tilting up my face and says, “I am going to bury myself so deep inside of you it’ll leave you feeling empty when I’m not with you.” A flood of lust and desperation came over me as he spoke those words. An inferno smolders deep within me with every look, every touch, all it takes is his kiss to cause an explosion of desire to consume me. I lick my lips, impatient for more as I whisper, “I have been a very naughty girl, Daddy. Teach me how to behave.” Lefty pronounces a smug chuckle and speaks, “Now, now, what have I told you about that? Your first punishment is, nothing. I will not touch you, caress you or tease you. I will not give your body the pleasure it is eager for. We

On April. 11, New Hope Community Church(P) held a graceful Sunday service with abundant grace poured down from out father in heaven Th full day of activities consisted of Sunday school, and the meeting for Adults. Antwaun, Curtis, and Bubble held bible study on the book of Romans, and prepared the service with a prayer meeting beforehand. Angela lead Sunday school with 4 children attending. She taught about the story of Jesus with some kid friendly educational materials. The kids are growing every week with the nourishing word of God.

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

As a child, I attended Sunday School before joining the rest of the congregation for the remainder of the service. Every Sunday, I was eager to learn the next intriguing lesson from my instructor. Early

On Sunday, November 2 at 10:00am, I attended Shepherd’s Community Methodist church in Lakeland, Florida. It had been several weeks since I had attended church and I was looking forward to worshiping and learning from the message that would be delivered by the pastor. At a United Methodist Church the first Sunday is “Communion Sunday” and I was excited to take part in the sacrament of Holy Communion at the service. Pastor Mark Reynolds was the pastor that delivered the sermon titled “The Best Investment”.

“No, mon cher,” the woman looks at a flat panel television screen that hangs outside a bar-restaurant near Dana Point, “That isn’t daddy.”

There is a burning image that runs through my head; the image of the fire woman. Joan, the fire woman, was an older lady, probably about sixty years old. I can tell because she had wrinkles that began to possess her slim, dark-skinned body. Her hair was an unnatural shade of strawberry blonde, in a style much like Dora’s, straight and cut short so that it barely reached her freckled shoulders and bent, slightly inward toward the base of her chiseled jawline. Her bangs glided, gently in a straight line across her hidden forehead, a bit above her narrow, perfectly arched, drawn on eyebrows. Winsome for her age. Her common summer attire consisted of pastel colored shorts matched with a fashionable t-shirt, in some shade of pink, or a black, spaghetti-strapped top. She was an affectionate and thoughtful woman towards everyone; including the children from the daycare across the street. Every day, Joan carried out a sapphire blue, circular tray with white polka dots that held some sort of cold treat such as lemonade or popsicles and handed them out to the excited children from the daycare on the hot summer days of July and August as if she were a waitress. Joan had never admired scorching hot weather, so she always made sure that everyone could stay cooled off. That was until the day that the burning image was stationed,

My interviewee is a second generation immigrant with one parent who was born in El Salvador and the other who has Mexican roots but was born in the United States. For the purposes of confidentiality my interviewee will be addressed as Ana from here on out. In this interview paper I will discuss the experiences that Ana faced growing up in a tri-racial household. I will also evaluate her experiences regarding assimilation to the lectures and reading assigned through out this course.

I was awakened by the violent shake of our house and the smell of smoke that hung in the air nearly suffocating me. Horror stricken I raced out of bed to the window to see everything covered in ash and the only thing I could hear were the shrill screams and cries of my neighbors. I made my way into the atrium only to find my mother weeping into her hands. I haven’t seen her so distraught since the day Papa died; her hair was disheveled, she was still in her night clothing, and there was no sign of breakfast anywhere. “Mother, what is it?” I began to panic for fear of what she might say and with every moment of silence that passed fear filled my heart and tears began to form. “It is Vesuvius, he has been disturbed. The Gods are not pleased with our people we all shall soon perish. Emperor Titus has fled to a land in the far east and left us defenseless.” Her face was white and her eyes appeared as though she had spent all morning grieving the inevitable. Before I could speak there was a knock at the door.

‘Ahhh!!!!!”, Zachariah screamed in agony. “You shouldn’t have messed with me you scrawny boy!” Thou shout walked towards Zachariah, as Zachariah crawled frantically away. It was helpless though, his bow was dragging him down and there was an edge 2 ft away from him. Thou Shout stood over him, looked him in the eyes and took a deep breath and looked down, about to blast flames, and right as flames started to form in the back of Thou shouts mouth, Zachariah notched his bow, closed his eyes and said,”This is for you mom” And

My culture was accustomed to not attending weekly services, since many of the local churches were quite a distance away. The sermons and studies were rooted in a worship of praise, involving dance and loud music, and the messages were of joy and hope for the future. The denomination emphasized “the doctrine of sanctification (or holiness) as being essential to the salvation of mankind.” I continued to attend churches within the denomination, as well as others with similar doctrinal beliefs while in the military. I was also exposed to military chaplains, and pastors, who introduced me to a greater respect and understanding of the Bible.

Whenever I fight, except with the girl at the school, there seem to be a part of me that is turned off. Everything around me disappears and the only thing that matters is the person in front of me. I’m not angry with them, I don’t want to hurt them, I just don’t want them standing in front of me anymore. The bell rang and he got to swing at me once before I ducked under his straight right and hit him with a right hook. As he turned, next came the left cross followed by a straight right and he was out.

A horrendous thing that happened to me was the time when I broke my foot. The positive side of that is that I learned my lesson. I was at my grandparents house about 3 years ago, and my little cousins and I were playing tag. I then leaped off 2 steps and landed on the rocks that were a few feet from the stairs. My foot started hurting horribly and my parents came to check on me. I limped all the way to the couch and had to put ice on it. We then left and I went straight home my parents did not think that it was broken or sprained. For the next 3 weeks I had went and was running and jumping on it my foot hurt continuously, especially when I had to run the 3 miles. So finally, my parents brought me to the hospital and the doctors gave me an

"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.

my life is not perfet I was born do not have everything like the others my parent dirolce when i was a child iI live with my grandpareants grandma taught to take care of my everything I got love from grandparents Although iI have no father sine I can remember I don't know word father I've never seen a face but I get love from the people around and my mom bak on 6 years ago I'm 12 years old As the memories of special the best story for me I met father come to me my father never saw more than 10 years I was shocked and excited don't think that's true I looked at my father for a long time and I think this is my father  It'good for me  I don't think I will met but why am I like this I'm not interested father unti now I want to go back in time but