We entered the building; my mother couldn't hold back her tears. All around me, the people there had grim expressions, an ominous feel in the air. I was visiting Sullivan, my childhood friend, at the South-Beach Prison. It was an experience that would forever change my outlook on life-watching my friend going through this difficult time.
It was a typical day back in my apartment in Sinkor; I was watching TV, when I received a call from my little brother; "Sullivan has been I hoped it was some twisted prank. I was shocked when I saw on the news that two men had been arrested for raping a twelve-year old girl, with Sullivan's photo splashed across the screen.
Now I had been off to college for a while, and I had not kept much contact with my family, save the occasional phone calls from my parents checking up on me. I'd visited over the holidays, but Sullivan never seemed to be around when I was home. I didn't care too much to inquire as to what he was doing. He had grown distant to his family, and he was no longer the same. I couldn't sleep.
Thinking that I did not know, my parents tried to keep the news from me for a while, thinking I would be better off not knowing. My roommates knew something was off, but I kept to myself. I quickly began to lose focus. School had become unbearable; I kept thinking of my family back home and my childhood friend in jail. How could I nonchalantly keep partying and having fun when back home there was turmoil? I wanted so much to believe that he was innocent, but I somehow couldn't.
Within few weeks, I had become so depressed that I had to drop out of school. However, seeing as everyone else was so distraught, I tried to help keep everyone optimistic. The emotion that my siblings tried so hard to hide when they visited me at college came out. My parents even had some trouble speaking on the subject; everyone seemed to have given up. My mom, being as religious as she is, would just pray, go to church and repeat the cycle. She would come home with some 'revelation' about how God was going to fix it all if we just believed. Honestly I found it useless and a tad annoying. At first I decided to humor my mother and join her to mass, something to get me out of the house, I reckoned. What I found was unexpected: the fuzzy, feel- good emotion that came from spending time in worship. However, that euphoria quickly faded, and reality dawned again: my childhood best friend was in jail.
The day came when I was going to meet him. The ride made my stomach churn. The penitentiary from afar was a dull building. Granted it contained alleged criminals, but it was an eyesore to those on the outside. We walked in, line after line, following strict procedures. Finally we arrived on the floor where he was, another line and then we waited. It was one of the longest moments of my life.
As I sat there staring into an empty room separated by cement bricks, I found myself reflecting on my life. What if it were me on the other end? What would I say? How would I react? My guy walks in. He looks tired, a lot skinnier, and very aged. He looks at me, smiles and sits opposite to me on the desk. "How are you?" Three words that made me appreciate everything I had. We talked for some time, not about the case so much as to catch up on, sports, politics, and the Bible. Here stood the man I considered my brother and he was fine, still positive, still sane. All had been stripped from him and he still wasn't fazed. It changed my view on everything. I saw my troubles as petty. I no longer became discouraged easily.
After the visit was over and I walked out of the building, I felt liberated. I had purpose; I no longer took anything for granted. I was thankful for the life given, and though it's tough, I realized we would get through it. Later that night I came home to my family home, things seemed a little brighter. I use to go through life, following the notion throughout the week. Come the weekend I would just party, only looking forward to just that without a care in the world. I realized the battle wasn't over. My childhood friend is still in jail to this day, but we haven't given up, the family is more united than ever for this cause. We've all suffered but it's only made our bond stronger with him and with God. I'm patiently waiting for the day of his release. We've contracted lawyers, but until then I visit my friend whenever possible and continue living.
Harley, is this a common essay prompt response? What is the essay question you are trying to address in this narrative? Please provide more detailed instructions about the requirements of the essay so that I can better review and analyze the content of your paper. Overall, the essay presents a clear idea of how you contemplated the meaning of life and how we live it. There is an understanding on your part that we are free because of our actions and in prison because of our actions as well. So the impact of the essay is clear. However, I am not sure what direction the essay should be headed in and if my analysis is correct and applicable to the prompt. I look forward to receiving further instructions from you about this as soon as possible.
