Personal Narrative: The Counselor's Office

I walked into the counselor's office, today they would be having me retell my story about what happened, as they try to figure out whether or not I was at fault for my crimes. The two police officers walked me into the small room where a petite young woman sat at the large dark brown desk, centered in the middle of the dark brown and black room, with a small red couch sat in front of it. They lead me to the couch, sitting me down after removing the handcuffs. I looked around the room, there was a small book case sat in the back full of files and folders, and on the back wall there was what appeared to be a picture of her and her husband son, and daughter. While many other things sat laid out around the room, the one thing that caught my eye …show more content…
Everyone keep talking about the after party, making me uncomfortable. I tried to pull Jake away to talk to him in private, but he wouldn't budge and continued to talk to Mike and his friends about the after party. I finally gave up on leaving and stood by his side as they talked about the party. By the end of the conversation I had be convinced by Mike and Cassidy to go, even tho I was still unsure about my decision, I decided that it wouldn't hurt anything as long as we stayed away from the alcohol and just had fun at the party.” I said thinking about what might had happened if only I went with my gut and told them no, instead of letting them convince me to go against my own thoughts. “What made you change your mind about the party when they were talking to you?” She asked calmly. “I felt like if we didn't go I would be letting them down, and I didn't want them to be upset with me.” I said, immediately feeling guilty at the thought that I made the decision right there, and looking back at it now, I would have preferred them to be mad at …show more content…
“I don't know how it happened or when it happened, but eventually I ended up with a beer in my hand. Slowly one turned to two, two to four, and by the end of the night I was drunk and ready to go home. I could barely walk, and after a half-hour of finding and getting everyone in my car we began the long ride home.” “What caused you to decide to drive home?” Dr. Morgan asked slowly as if she was checking to see how the question would make me react. I sat there for a few minutes thinking. What did make me decide to get in the car? Was it my friends, family, did I just not want anyone else to drive my car? Yet, none of that was right, it was in that moment that realized it was me. It had nothing to do with what anyone else wanted or what anyone else had said to me. It was me. “I wanted to go home, that's why I drove. I was tired and wanted to go and lay down in my bed.” I said softly, as if saying it too loud would cause the little bit of sanity I had to slip

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