A Narrative Essay - A Meaningful Experience Essay

I believe in having responsibility for my actions for the rest of my life. Responsibility can earn me a ton of things, such as money and treats. If I do an action or sometimes help my mother with an action, I gain a dollar or two or my mom gives me a treat, like Sweet Frog’s. In this case, I wouldn’t mind being responsible because it involves something that I care about dearly.

It was a fine Sunday Morning. I was about to experience a fun day of baseball. It was a beautiful afternoon for a trip to the ballpark. I could hardly wait to get there to experience all of the fun things. I was with my brother and his girlfriend and my two nephews and me.I got there by car with my brother's girlfriend and me and my nephew. When we got there we went to the park there and played on the playground. Then we headed up to our seats which were all the way at the top ,one of the best seats in the house. I went down to the concession stand and my brother gave me $20 to buy three pops and a small pop for my nephews and me. The guys who comes to you and give you the ice cream and stuff. we got slushies

The darkness consumed my cousin, but not completely. A part of me did not want to believe that she committed a mass murder and maybe, just maybe it was someone else. But the proof that the police needed was all there. We weren’t that close but it pained me to know that someone who i thought to be as a kind and caring person could kill people.

I was ten, the most terrifying event I had been through was riding the little dragon roller coaster at the fair, but that night changed it all. The fear that started in my head spread like wildfire to the rest of my body from the tips of my fingers to the bottoms of my toes. My heart was racing so fast that it could have beat Usain Bolt in a 100m dash. Stop, drop and roll, three steps that should have come naturally, but instead I froze, looked down at my yellow and black checkered flannel in complete terror, fearing for my life.

It hurts. My bright red bruises under the light were buzzing from the pain. The yelling and arguing were muffled by my loud sobs. Why did this have to happen to me? I was just a kid, I didn’t do anything! Stomp stomp stomp. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He found me and yelled into my ears even more. I was called ugly, fat, disgusting, useless, girly, weak. The words ringed in my ears as I asked myself once again, why? I was like a slave, I couldn’t defend myself, I had to survive the beatings. I succumbed to the insults and descended into chaos.

I had always assumed that my legs were strong and that I had decent muscle control, however, this thought was proven wrong at the beginning of my junior year in high school due to a detrimental injury. It was the first game of fall league for basketball, and within the first five minutes I had succumbed to an injury. Tearing my ACL and Meniscus has taught me to continue improving on my strength, not let this one injury keep me down, and to keep a positive mindset.

Looking back out of the small window, I catch a final glimpse of corn fields and lonely railroad crossings before they dip below the horizon. For my first time on a plane, the excitement of adventure meets me as I depart from the comfort of home and enter a world unknown outside of Nebraska. Seeing the world in God’s view as the landscape evolves below, I fall in love with flying. Looking down from 30,000 feet and seeing earth on such a vast scale, I realize how much there is to discover.

There I was in a foreign land, lodged in the seats of the cramped van as I pondered thoughts of my future. I was an eighth grader about to enter the arduous experience and intimidating environment of high school. I perceived visions of me struggling through the drudgery of work as well as events where I was given laudations for my witty ideas and prestigious accomplishments. Mixed emotions drowned my brain into a swamp of careless stress, but these were flushed as the abrupt stop of the car brought me out of my daydream. That day was a day I would remember forever, but I was just a child, unknown about what I was going to see.

Confidence isn’t everything, right? Wrong. Okay maybe it’s not EVERYTHING, but I believe that confidence is something everyone needs. Being able to appear strong and content with yourself to just about anyone and everything out there is key to even the slightest bit of success.

On March 4th, 2018, I, Officer Albert, was working as a Police Officer for the Wichita State University Police Department. At approximately 0150 hours I was dispatched to Shocker Hall for a suspicious character report. The suspicious character was a white male wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt riding a skateboard. I arrived at approximately 0151 hours on the south side of Shocker Hall and walked down the south steps towards the courtyard. Officer Andrew Abbey was on scene talking with an individual fitting the suspicions character description, see Officer Abbey's report. I spoke with the individual later identified as Tyler Micol Dane Kuhn. Kuhn's eyes were glassy and his pupils were large. Kuhn's hands were shaking and he seemed confused. Kuhn wasn't able to

Red lights, traffic lines, students walking or dragging, I could hardly tell. Today marks the day of my first day of high school without my best friend who may not connect to me blood-relatively but a family in my heart. I thought to myself, what if I can’t find any of my friends? What if I can’t find any of my classes? What if everything doesn’t turn out the way I want it to? Anxiety and panic roll in my body as soon as my mom stopped the car. I hesitated to open the car door, making little movements to even try to get out the car. I waved goodbye and shut the door closed so lightly that I think my mom had to properly shut it again. As I make my way to the front entrance with the gated black fence that shines so dimly, I looked up randomly at the sky, noticing that the clouds appeared very cloudy and immediately assumed that the rain will start sprinkling

It was a normal Friday in March except for the fact that I got my license. So my friends and I thought about what we were going to do now that I have my license. Well, we cruised around town thinking we were hot stuff and that we were better that most kids in school since I had my license before many of my friends. We decided that we'd go off-roading since I had the huge truck. It was a hunter green 1979 Ford F-250 Custom. It had huge 33-inch tires, a loud crackling exhaust, and a unique 2-inch thick oak plank flatbed. It really was a beast. So we roared around the backroads hitting bumps and flying into fields just causing a little mischief not doing too much harm. After a week of horsing around

Some days begin like any other, and then end in a way so unexpected, so devastatingly sad that it takes your breath away. You are left with questions like how could this be? Why did this happen? To which there is no answer. Your brain begins to hypothesize and rationalize and pick apart every detail, I should have known. There must have been a sign I missed. I live with these thoughts still, like a an incomplete jigsaw puzzle sitting on a table of sadness, in a house of guilt, on a long dark road of regret.

Plav, Montenegro is a small, poor village in Europe. It is the place where my parents were born and raised. Even though I was born in Brooklyn, New York, I feel I was raised in Plav, Montenegro, too. Growing up in America, where the culture and traditions are so different from that of Montenegro, I was faced with the obstacle of trying to become part of mainstream America while maintaining my own culture.

Then the 134 arrived. I got on, showed my pass to the bus driver and