Personal Narrative: The Nightmare On Lenox Street
“The haunted houses at Screamfest are amazing,” says patron Joseph Lopez. “They are constantly giving me a run
Have you ever noticed strange things happen around you? You ever wonder where ghost stories come from well these are all true and there are countless others that are just as scary or even scarier because they are true. Some stories happened in certain areas and some happen in an entire building either way they are both just as scary. Williams Hall is haunted by Angie Milner. Manteno State hospital had 50 patients die of typhoid.
In summary, on 09/21/15 at 0418 hours I was patrolling the area of 1600 S. Laramie Ave., at which time I observed a male subject with a youthful appearance walking northbound 16th Street. I made contact with the subject, at which time he identified himself as (Rosas, Alexis DOB 04/21/97). While speaking with Rosas, I detected a strong odor of fresh cannabis emanating from his person. Rosas related he had some cannabis in his sweater pocket. I recovered a silver box containing a green leafy substance from Rosas ' right sweater pocket.
Every night, 365 days a year the sun sets in Key West is a part of someone’s night. The light goes out, but the city is still awake. Everywhere in Key West there is either food, art, or someone showing off a cool talent. The hot humid days turn into cool humid nights. The stars and moon come out and dance to the music.
In the 1970s, the Amityville Horror emerged as a widely known and contentious account of supernatural terror. The narrative centers around the Lutz family, who relocated to a grand Dutch Colonial house situated in Amityville, New York. In December 1975, George and Kathleen Lutz, accompanied by Kathleen’s three children from a previous marriage, settled into their new residence at 112 Ocean Avenue. Unbeknownst to them, the house had been the site of a horrifying mass murder merely a year prior. Ronald DeFeo Jr., the former owner, had ruthlessly slain his parents and four siblings while they slept.
I have lived in East Oakland my whole life. To the majority of people, the mention of East Oakland evokes thoughts of violence, shootings, and gangs. I was one of the people who believed in these stereotypes, and for a particularly long time. I was one of the people who saw Oakland as a wasteland, a place with nothing to offer me, and a place I had nothing to offer to.
I grew up in inner city Baltimore Maryland. Neither of my parents were or are followers of Christ. They divorced when I was very young. I spent most of my life moving from place to place with my mother and two brothers. I gave up on high school when I failed my freshmen year.
Ever since I was born, my family has moved five times, and at each city that we move to, my family and I live there for at most four years. Then we pack up and move once again to another city. I currently reside in the wonderful city of San Jose, whose history is very vivid and exciting, being the very first civilian settlement in California to becoming the site of the first state capital to the third most-populated city in the state. Founded on November 29, 1777 by José Joaquín Moraga, who named the place El Pueblo de San Jose de Guadalupe, the city of San Jose was destined to become one of the greatest cities in the nation. Before José Joaquín Moraga actually travelled to the place to build the city of San Jose, there was another group
I wake up the screeching of my alarm clock, prompting me to get out of bed even before the sun begins its day. Outside, the street is silent, but I cannot see far because of the morning fog. I was excited for the day, looking forward to the results of yesterday’s work. In the city of Houston, Texas, vastly different cultures collide.
Nicolas Cage states, “I think what makes people fascinating is conflict, it's drama, it's the human condition. Nobody wants to watch perfection.” Anger, Death, Violence, Chaos, the past, speaking silently in the darkness. These nouns draw our attention by the main and forefront inclination of human nature, and how our bodies are programmed to maintain focus on such events. An inescapable collision course, since the dawn of time conflict, has arisen deep within our souls, along with the obscurity that ensues, being a fundamental factor in how we cannot process the cause or reason of why individuals let negativity, personal gain, hatred, and other emotional charges take control of their mouths and body.
Bam, the runner hit the ball. She dropped the bat and ran to first base. Safe, she kept on running to second. As I watched her run I realize she wasn’t stopping at second, or third. Rounding third base, she sprinted to home plate.
It doesn't sound particularly meaningful, but one of the times I'm really proud of is when I got myself un-lost from the lower levels of the streets in downtown Chicago. In Chicago's downtown, there are many streets that are double- or triple-leveled, and the lowest levels are usually full of abandoned cars, warehouses, and people with nowhere else to go. Last summer, I was headed to a friend's house in Hyde Park and had to catch a bus that I didn't know, and the google maps app didn't know, was on the topmost level. The maps took me into the lowest level, and then stopped working right, because it wouldn't give me directions that I could follow. At first, I freaked out because I had never been here before, and it was very dimly lit and, most
In America, there has been many terrible tragedies happening in the past year. From the woman killed in Charlesville for peacefully protesting, to the recent incident that happened in Las Vegas, where over five hundred were wounded. These catastrophic events make you question what this country has come to. It makes you feel hopeless, like there is nothing we can do to make a difference. We can make a change!
The night of May 25, 2011, is a night that will vividly remain in the forefront of my memories. Myself, Junior, my husband and Mini Pearl our little Chihuahua, were living in Clarksville, on Rogers Avenue, in a spacious old brick home with our friend John “Doc” Strange, his daughter Kristen and his little dog Mischief. The brick house was built in the early 1900’s. Throughout the day and early evening threats of tornadic activity in our area was causing apprehension, trepidation and anxiety in our home.
An outsider: a person who does not belong. I stepped onto the chilly, uninviting plane with a sparkle of hope and adventure in my eyes. I was flying in an enormous plane to go on a gruesome eighteen hour flight. At first sight, every single person shot at us, not because we were flying a plane. But, because we were eight American-
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