Narrative #1 Draft #1 “There are always those who take it…” (pg. 78) Sobia Moman
TABI was sitting in the family room, which was a little ironic considering the lack of family environment that existed in my house.your structure is off
I was doing my homework, at 3:30 pm sharp, routinely as I would do each day. My father sat adjacent to the couch I was on, in his chair on my left.
Math homework was never my strength, but I dared not to ask him for his help, knowing even at that age the response that I would receive.
“Jayden, I will never hold your hand just because you are incompetent. In a few years you will not have anybody to help you, I am helping you become a man, like myself.” He would say.
I would go back to my work, biting my tongue before I could ask what incompetent meant.
“There are always those who take it,” stated my father. “You should be that person.”
At that time I had not incline? as to what he was referring to. I soon got a better understanding, but I was also past the age of eight.
The last…show more content… This was however not a good thing for my morals. I was not the person I had set out to be.
Yes, I had my own business, but I stole it rather than earn it or build it myself. This was not the route I had planned for myself, but all I could hear was my father.
When the opportunity arose itself, all I heard was there are always those who take it. You should be that person.
So I took it. I never regretted it, which made it worse. I had no remorse for stealing a dead man’s life. I had even less remorse for being at the cause end of his death. I was the person my father would respect, and I hated everything about that phrase.
But that did not make me change. I was living in a house much too big for one person, much too big for a family of five. And I loved it, so much I was disgusted with myself.
I never knew the names of the people cleaning my house, my employees or even the man who’s life I