A life to live a story to tell
Willie Perry
Mrs. Robin Evans
English 111-05
Final
11/16/2010
A life to live a story to tellLife is hard, Life is short, Life is painful, Life is rich, life is ….. Precious!
Hello everyone my name is Precious. Many of you may know me, but do you really know me? Hell no…. you don’t know me. My name is Claireece “Precious” Jones.
I’m 16years old. I live in Harlem. The big city of New York life is supposed to be great. I’m supposed to be a skinny super model. Well in my dreams at least. I live the fabulous life of pig’s feet and dirty dishes cleaning up after my nasty mother who does nothing but sit on her butt all day and watch daytime television. That’s besides the point.
Life is Hard.Life for me is hard. Growing up in the city of Harlem. At the age of 16 having two children. I never knew how to read or write. I was what many call or considered dumb, stupid, and even illiterate. I was kind of smart I though, I was able to spend food stamps and steal food when I needed it. No one understands how rough life is until they have to experience it. I’ve had so many jobs and chores. Cleaning my chores was one of my favorite things to do. Cleaning the kitchen was really a pleasure because I’d think I was Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart as I clean. The walls would be so nasty ill be thinking about painting over the dirt but I cleaned it really good; loving the smell of pine sol, bleach, and dish detergent. The walls would have grease stains over them especially above the stove area, the floors was really nasty they were so sticky; the sink was filled with all types of rotting food particles. The bathroom was another favorite of mine. The toilet sat very low to the floor. The old school tub was nice I liked the animal feet on the bottom of the tub. The sink was clogged with hair. The floor was what I think would be considered water damage. Our home was very dark and dirty must I go on.
Life is short.Children should always have the best life to me because I know how it fells to have your childhood stolen from you. Sitting alone in my room dancing to the music I loved I was skinny at this time. My dad would always admire my dancing abilities. I’ll dance the night away. The first night it happened I was in my room I had just gotten out of the tub I used to love. I was in my sky blue night gown. My father… My father came into my room and sat on the end of my bed. He said “baby girl you know how me and your mother love each other? I love you more than I love her and ill do anything for you but baby girl I have to see how it feels”. I was wondering what he was talking about and then he placed his hand in between my thighs and then he began to have his way with me I tried to explain to my mother but she wouldn’t listen she said that I was a liar. I told her every night he came into my room. I decided to let my self go then because maybe he wouldn’t hurt me anymore. I sat in my room dark as the night, crying holding my teddy bear tight throughout the night. My walls used to be so pure but all I hear is the screams of innocent children my dad had taken advantage of. My room was no longer my sanctuary. So now I sit in my lonely hell deranged room and look at the images of my father I had posted all over my room. I thought my father loved me but I’m guessing I never knew he loved me the wrong way. My father stole my light so when I say life is short because soon after my father died and I had two children of his.
Mrs. Robin Evans
English 111-05
Final
11/16/2010
A life to live a story to tellLife is hard, Life is short, Life is painful, Life is rich, life is ….. Precious!
Hello everyone my name is Precious. Many of you may know me, but do you really know me? Hell no…. you don’t know me. My name is Claireece “Precious” Jones.
I’m 16years old. I live in Harlem. The big city of New York life is supposed to be great. I’m supposed to be a skinny super model. Well in my dreams at least. I live the fabulous life of pig’s feet and dirty dishes cleaning up after my nasty mother who does nothing but sit on her butt all day and watch daytime television. That’s besides the point.
Life is Hard.Life for me is hard. Growing up in the city of Harlem. At the age of 16 having two children. I never knew how to read or write. I was what many call or considered dumb, stupid, and even illiterate. I was kind of smart I though, I was able to spend food stamps and steal food when I needed it. No one understands how rough life is until they have to experience it. I’ve had so many jobs and chores. Cleaning my chores was one of my favorite things to do. Cleaning the kitchen was really a pleasure because I’d think I was Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart as I clean. The walls would be so nasty ill be thinking about painting over the dirt but I cleaned it really good; loving the smell of pine sol, bleach, and dish detergent. The walls would have grease stains over them especially above the stove area, the floors was really nasty they were so sticky; the sink was filled with all types of rotting food particles. The bathroom was another favorite of mine. The toilet sat very low to the floor. The old school tub was nice I liked the animal feet on the bottom of the tub. The sink was clogged with hair. The floor was what I think would be considered water damage. Our home was very dark and dirty must I go on.
Life is short.Children should always have the best life to me because I know how it fells to have your childhood stolen from you. Sitting alone in my room dancing to the music I loved I was skinny at this time. My dad would always admire my dancing abilities. I’ll dance the night away. The first night it happened I was in my room I had just gotten out of the tub I used to love. I was in my sky blue night gown. My father… My father came into my room and sat on the end of my bed. He said “baby girl you know how me and your mother love each other? I love you more than I love her and ill do anything for you but baby girl I have to see how it feels”. I was wondering what he was talking about and then he placed his hand in between my thighs and then he began to have his way with me I tried to explain to my mother but she wouldn’t listen she said that I was a liar. I told her every night he came into my room. I decided to let my self go then because maybe he wouldn’t hurt me anymore. I sat in my room dark as the night, crying holding my teddy bear tight throughout the night. My walls used to be so pure but all I hear is the screams of innocent children my dad had taken advantage of. My room was no longer my sanctuary. So now I sit in my lonely hell deranged room and look at the images of my father I had posted all over my room. I thought my father loved me but I’m guessing I never knew he loved me the wrong way. My father stole my light so when I say life is short because soon after my father died and I had two children of his.
Mr. Perry,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading the drafts of your major essays; especially your strong arguments incorporated in your Argumenatative Essay. In this essay, you did a good job of presenting a very strong argument as your claim and selected a highly debateable topic as your issue for this essay. In addition, you maintained a consistent argument and premise throughout your essay, and supported your argument, however, your sources are difficult to validate, as the sources from "Buzzle" and "Wikipedia" are somewhat suspect,as they are difficult to validate as they are links on general web sites. As you revise, I recommend that you find at least one strong source that you can validate; PETA is an organizational site that you may want to visit. In addition, make sure review MLA formatting for more information on incorporating and formatting your in-text citations. Finally, make sure to proofread, edit, and revise all of your essays, paragraph by paragraph, as you prepare your portfolio, and don't forget to include your reflection as part of your portfolio.
Your grade for your argumentative essay is 180/200.