I collapsed when I learned that my father's parole application had been turned down again

Since I was in high school, I didn't get up one day later than half past five in the morning. But it's already half past seven. I'm still in bed with my stall over my head. My father's pending parole application seemed to keep time down, but in fact it kept my whole life at a standstill. We need to know today that he'll be released. This afternoon, my world may be filled with love and hope, no longer sad and lonely. When he was 17, that's when I was so old, my father and two others were arrested for murder and robbery, and one of his associates shot and killed a taxi driver. Although my father did not shoot, and the murder was not premeditated, he was sentenced to 15 years in prison with two others. I hope he can get parole, because the New York state parole board (the New York State Parole Board) recently decided to release the murderer, but my father in prison has been higher than most of the prisoners achievements. I am proud that he won the New York state Bard College (Bard College) associate degree, and at Bard College in prison (Bard Prison Initiative) project made a speech on the graduation ceremony, he also won the Thomas Edison State University (Thomas Edison State University) Bachelor's degree, is now studying MBA. He was the chief trainer for the service dog to help disabled veterans, a project to identify victims of crime, and a published author. He was never punished for violence during his stay in prison. This is my father's fourth parole hearing, and he's a little odd after every hearing. Because the Committee elusive, but also because of waiting for the award to experience several days of suffering, he would always call me when he was a boy, and not talk about how it will apply for parole.
Last call me, my father recalled we first met: it was at the Rex island prison (Rikers Island), at the age of 17 when he was born, and I have only 17 days (he said he felt more than 17 year old mature, and I look than the 17 days old). He described the hour - long meeting with the least detail, and my presence made him feel a moment of peace in a place full of violent criminals. Then I told him about myself in school, and about the feelings I felt. I told him that all the other students were excellent and seemed effortless. "Every activity in the school, the parents of the children will be there, right?"" Asked my father. "Yes," I replied. "Their parents will check their homework, help them with math problems, and give them more direct coaching. But for you, it's all possible and not - - that's how you feel, right?"
"Yes," I replied. "Their parents will check their homework, help them with math problems, and give them more direct coaching. But for you, it's all possible and not - - that's how you feel, right?" "It doesn't matter how I feel about it. That's the way it is. I hate things I don't understand. It makes me feel very frustrated." "But, son, I tell you, that's the key to the challenge you face," my father said. "He can always turn defeat into strength.". "Because you don't have as much as everyone else has, you have to work harder. It's not a matter of ability, but of how strong and accurate you are. What I can tell you is that you are the strongest person I know." My father always has a way of dealing with my little emotion: whenever I feel like I've failed, he always makes me believe he's not doing a bad job in a sense. After waiting for a few days of the decision of the parole board, I know that he is going to talk to me -- how to read these changed his life, or watched me grow up is how to let him learn to rediscover the meaning of life, so no matter how the final verdict, will make me stronger. But I still did not have the courage to push the blanket, instead I withdrew into the darkness, imagining my father's 17 years old. He had been a top student before grade eight, but unfortunately he dropped out of school at the age of 14 and became a street bully. He said he was completely out of the way and was being bullied, which made him feel angry and lonely. If I tell these to my mother, it will certainly make her unable to say a word. But my father's life at that time, and his experience of being divorced from society, made me feel the same way. It reminds me of a football game we won recently. When I chatted with my teammates after the match, I was excited to tell them how my father had contributed to the game and scored a teammate named Michael who broke through the defence. Then someone asked me, "why didn't he watch the game tonight?""
That was the first time someone had asked me that question, although I knew it wasn't the first time they had such a doubt. I froze there, silent, and said nothing. Such a response was terrible. "No matter what happens, my parents will come every game," said another teammate John. This remark is not so much a sign of how much his parents love him, but rather as a judgment of my parents' irresponsibility. Because I couldn't communicate with my teammates again, I walked home alone that night. But how can I tell them the truth? They will make fun of me for someone who has never been with me. On this defining morning, I fantasized about my father's absence from prison. He came to pick me up from school, he won a football to take me to the park, teach me how to escape from the besieged defenders, and then from the crowd drill out a touchdown. My father is coming home, and I will show him that I have become a replica of him, and that my teammates can finally see him. But I can't tell him all this. I can't say that I have insomnia for several days with him, don't tell him that I have never in school to speak to anyone about their situation, because it will only make them for my lack of family care is confirmed. I can't tell him, because he's miserable enough, and I don't want to put any pressure on him. When the phone rang at last, I was still curled up in the blanket, my head buzzing, and I felt like I was going to faint. It's my dad. After a long few seconds, he said, "you have to be strong, you have to be strong."......" I didn't hear anything else. I want to yell wildly. I am a man of integrity and a model student. But my father still can't go home.