1.5 Charectorization Practice In Research

I go to the kitchen to eat breakfast, and to my surprise, there was no more of my favorite cereal, HONEY NUT CHEERIOS!!!!! But wait, I’m not done yet that wasn’t even the worst thing….. Yet. The milk was all gone and we had to buy more, which we did…… after we left the house to go to the vacation. CURSE MY BAD LUCK!!! We had to eat the oatmeal or bread that was left in the fridge. I wasn’t very happy but it was alright, unless that’s what I thought. I think it was my first year in Fountain Woods (4th Grade year) and I kind of liked it. Go to my classroom to give my teacher a present. As I’m on my way to her classroom, I fall down the stairs and I was near the top. I go back upstairs to her classroom, give a little speech, and give the whole class a hug, at the same time. You think that there is no problem, there actually was a problem. When I was home, I may have drowned myself with cologne, which had a really nice scent, so it may have been really hard to get out the classroom.I’m walking downstairs but trip over the stairs and fall all the way down the stair. I get to the car we were driving to go to Canada, it was burning so much that I felt that I was melting in the car. So I decided to fall to asleep. We arrive at our location at midnight and I was still tired. I think I may have slept until 1 P.M . So thinking back at that day, I knew that today was a start of something amazing. Then I later fall on a car because I was daydreaming. I knew something bad was going

I was sitting in my classroom waiting for my number to get called. It's was fourth grade and we had just gotten back from the holidays and everyone was turning in their homework. My teacher was as mad as a bull with all the excuses. “My dog ate my homework” “I dropped it in the pool”. Then I remembered my story…my homework caught on fire! I thought back to that day when I was in first grade. I was as little as a mouse. I was at home doing my homework while my mom was cooking and put my homework by her purse which happens to be by the burners. My mom being the greatest cook ever turned on the wrong burner. Then the corner of my homework caught on fire! I screeched and my mom put it out. The next day my teacher asked me what happened to my homework.

As one of the teachers are announcing the things that are about to take place, the teacher tells the crowd that one of the fifth grade graduates "Tiffany Scales" is about to read a speech. Everyone was clapping and excited, for what reason I have no idea. So as the teacher announces my name to come forward, I do so with my heart beating fast as ever. I look unto the crowd and then I look at my paper and I begin to read it and talk into the microphone. As I am talking I can sense that my voice is getting really trembling and my hands are starting to sweat. I'm reading into my speech then all of a sudden I start crying. That is how nervous I was to the point that I started crying in front of everyone. My teacher immediately comes up forward and hugs me and she finished reading my speech for me. I am still at the podium wiping my tears and sniffing my nose

I was panicking I didn’t know what I did I thought I was in some kind of trouble, but when I got to the principal’s office, there were 2-3 police officers there waiting for me. They sat me down with a concerned look and told me some terrible news. These few words that I could never get out of my head. It’s as if there locked in a prison. They told me that my father was in an accident at first I thought that they were just talking about a car accident. I had no idea what to expect. Then they told me that my father had passed away I started balling my eyes out I didn’t know what to do. They soon drove me back to my house where I saw my brother and a few neighbors and friends. There were a few cop cars and an ambulance. I later found out that he had committed suicide. My aunt and uncle came and picked us up from my house and brought us to their house where they tried to cheer us up a bit it was my cousins birthday so we tried to have a

It was the epitome of a catastrophic injury. After arriving at the hospital my ankle was reset and I was discharged later that day with corrective surgery a few days later. The surgery went off without a hitch, but I wouldn’t be able to run, jump, or even walk on my own for the next three months. Despite this colossal setback, I crutched back to school the following week. On my third or so day back, I was called down to the principal's office, because I had missed several days of school in a row (I wonder why?). Regardless, after I showed up hobbling into his office, the reason for my absences became clear. Then he wanted to go over my grades, to make sure that I wouldn’t fall too far behind. When he pulled them up, he was surprised to see that I was still getting top marks, and did not have a single missing assignment. This was not by error, because, even in my drug induced half conscious state, I had diligently e-mailed my teachers and completed all of the school work that I had missed, never missing a step

I trudge through the hallway in disbelief that it’s only the second week of my junior year. The tumultuous sea of students push passed my slender body; I keep my head down watching the shuffling of feet as I make my mindless progression. Obfuscated, my mind struggles to recall life before this weekend but such an egregious event is not easily forgotten. How was I going to explain myself? Somehow I made it to my English classroom where my affable teacher sat diligently bent over papers. Even though he appears undeniably nonthreatening my hands still shake amid my trek to his desk. Not knowing how to commence telling my story I simply blurt out “I’m sorry if I start crying in class...my dad tried to kill me this weekend.”

The teacher split the class into three groups. My group went to a different classroom with a different teacher. The wall of window allowed the bright sun to bleed into the room. The teacher has a military background that she shared with the class. She said that this is the Advance class. I was baffled what she had said. Secretly, I look around the class and saw that all the smart kids were in here. She had us look at ink plots to teach us to see differently and to describe the image we see. After that exercise, she said that we were not going to write a paper, but we were going to have a debate instead. The debate was on genetic modification. Anxiety and enjoyment both crept into my mind after she said that. The weeks up ahead were tough, but insightful at the same

I made up lie after lie of reasons why I was sad; I was pretty convincing. I had it ready in my hand as I walked through the hallway. I entered the choir room and all of a sudden got very happy; I was about to be popular again! My ignorance and arrogance led to me making the worst decision of my life; I handed her the letter. Her face went to shock right away and it was at that moment, my body began to shake as I realized that I had made a great mistake. She ran right out of our class and to the office, letter in hand. My name was called over the PA system to come down and I nearly fainted. When my teacher found out why I was going down, she started crying, which led to my whole class crying. My plan had worked, I had the whole school crying because they thought I was going to die. I felt like I was going to die. The assistant principal immediately began to grill me with questions; my eyes began to pour. My mom was called in and I was able to make the excuse that someone else wrote it and it got switched around. In doing this, I was able to avoid getting in trouble with the school, but my family was disappointed in me. More importantly, I was disappointed in

One hot like jalapeno day, five friends Josue, Edgar, Freddy, Adrian, and I went to the pool. We were there for about an hour until we started to feel sick so we decided to leave. Later on that day while we were watching tv, we found out that the same pool we went to was wreaking of radiation but what we did not know was that after that day our lives would never be the same.

It was how to write our name and I like to think of myself as always being quite a smart kid, but this was not the case here. I had not really been taught how to write my name in a comprehensible way. I had written my name down with only being asked once. The only bad outcome was that I wrote something I could not even comprehend. The other students were older than me and wrote their names that would be considered neat for their age. I was frustrated because no matter how hard I tried, I could not produce something that was readable. I had a bad case of anger issues and was ready to flip but thankfully Mrs. Tayman came and helped me. She corrected the way I was holding the pencil and that by itself helped the legibility tremendously. When she saw that everyone had made a sufficient amount of progress in that day she let us have nap

This all started when I was 12 years old. I just got in class from recess and started to worry that I didn't study enough for the math test Ms. Bennett was giving us. We sat down at our assigned tables but when we did I found it strange Ms. Bennett didn’t make us spread out. I was sitting beside a nice boy named Gaben. the reason I say he was nice is because whenever I didn’t have a pencil he would lend me one. Thirty minutes on the clock the test has started. It was a multiple choice test with around twelve to fifteen questions on it. I’m fifteen minutes in and to my knowledge doing pretty good. I was on the fifth question when boom. a loud bang erupted from my right side. A cheap metal chair lying on the ground with Gaben collapsed beside it. Ms. Bennett rushed over to see what was wrong. She called the principal down and put a cold cloth over his head. Some students reported seeing him not eating anything at lunch. This made the teachers think he just passed out because of low

Biology class was an easy subject. We pretty much just did matching X and Y chromosomes and watched the slow monsters inside me. I had friends in this class and sat in the front by the door. But then one day the teacher told us we were going to dissect a frog and I hate them. The day of the dissection I was queasy and a little scared. I had my group members do the dissecting but one of them thought it would be funny and flung the the organ juice of the frog at me and it hit me in the face. I got mad and disgusted to the point where I almost threw up but I was able to hold it down. From this experience I learned to never trust my friends with something I don't

So we packed are things into our backpack and proceed to go the library even though I was still mad about the fact that I got in trouble, but, spending the rest of the school day there makes a difference. After we arrived there she told us to pick out a book of our choosing and do a poster about the most favorite moment that we thought was the best. So we all went to pick out the book that we wanted and the story that I picked was called Goosebumps: Night of the living dummies by R.l Stein. To me this book had a lot of memorable moments so I choose the introduction of the dummy to be the poster. Everything went great until I decided to go find a new marker because the ink was starting to fade and went to go get it from the basket. I got there I started to find the marker I needed, I grabbed a pair of scissors to move them away from the marker I needed, when it happened. Someone's poster got stabbed and had a hole in it. That person started to blame me because I had scissors in my hand and the teacher came around and ask about what happen. As soon as she heard what happened, she was convinced that I did and gave me another week's worth of picking up trash. I got so angry I started to scream back at the teacher saying that none this was my fault and didn't do anything to the point that threw scissors at a computer monitor breaking it on impact.

After school, I sat down, pulled out a piece of notebook paper and picked up my pencil. About an hour later, I looked down at my paper and all that was written was, “I was running down hot cement streets.”

The next month I told my teacher what had happened and she sent me to my guidance counselor. I was told that I had to tell everything that happened. That day I was told that everything was going to be okay, but it wasn’t.