College Admissions Essay-Personal Narrative Of My Life

From my room,I had smelt and sensed that rain was about to  arrive and had scurried outside before the drops commenced.Sweet anticipation formed inside as I awaited the blissful raindrops to pelt me on my face and body.The wind rose higher and grew frighteningly violent,swirling throwing rocks and gravel into the air.The thin

It was a bleak summer’s evening with the shadows deepening on a path that ambled down between bitternut hickory trees and then cut sideways across a field of tiny green grapevines. There was a wind beginning, small gusts that rattled the fence posts and set the dandelions dancing in unison on the broad expanse of lawn. Rain spotted our shirts and glistened on our nylon backpacks.

I slowly cut the heart out of the folded paper and held it up to the light. The edges were jagged and uneven; I tossed it in my growing pile of scrap paper. My hands were stained with marker and my hair was covered in glitter. It was bedtime and I was not even halfway done with the valentines for my third-grade class. I wanted my cards to look great- better than store-bought. I was so frustrated that tears welled in my eyes. The next morning, defeated, I went to CVS with my mom to buy cards. Everyone liked the Kit-Kat bars taped to the backs.

I used to be a fighter. I used to walk confidently, I was never afraid to kick or scream or punch. I’ve grown up in a house of loud, stubborn people with strong opinions. But one day, I started feeling dull. I don’t remember when or how it happened, really. I guess that the looks I got and the laughter from other kids across the room began to take a toll on me. So in the Summer of sixth grade I started changing. I began to wear makeup. I dyed and straightened what used to be a huge frizzy mess of orange hair. I stopped wearing color even. During my first few weeks of middle school, I quickly learned two things. One being that people like you a lot more if your pretty, and the other being that loud, bold personalities are frowned upon by my peers. So I got quieter and cowardly.

“I want to be a firefighter, construction worker, and professional race car driver when I grow up.” This was my proud childhood statement I would use when asked the question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” This question in particular is one that will be asked awfully early in one’s childhood, as well as very late in a young adults final years before venturing out into the “real world”. Like many other young children, I grew up with the mindset of having a exciting, heroic, and lively job for when I got older. I dreamt of operating heavy construction machinery, saving families while extinguishing fires of a decaying building, and speeding past vibrant and heavily decalled race cars. However, as I grew older and gained more realistic

Winds came and picked up speed, there came rain and hail and tunnels of air with the viscosity of mud; which swept up anything and everything in its path. A wind so immense even the farmers children could barely stand their ground. The day the storm hit, the children’s parents called

Apart from my little sister, growing up I was the youngest of three boys. Due to an abundance of energy, and an unspoken admiration for my brothers I wanted to do everything they did. They would take me outside, and we would play every sport imaginable, and a majority of my weekends were spent watching their various sporting events. I always knew I wanted to play sports, and as soon as I began going to school I gravitated towards friends who had the same interests as me. In kindergarten I began to play basketball with a few of my best friends. At the time we played solely because we loved running around and being together, but I began to develop a love for the game and a love for competition. As soon as I could I signed up for football, and

Up to now, the sky had been scattered powder-puff clouds, but it was changing. The sky that looked like beautiful ribbons, all a different shade of blue was now beginning to look like a blanket of darkness. The storm clouds thickened and out of the blue a wave heavy rain poured in torrents. I was lucky enough to get the first splatter of rain on my sweater when I was about 3 steps away from the building my class was being held in. I ran into the building while the rain turned the sidewalks and roads into vast lakes of dull, muddy water. I can’t emphasis to you how relieved I felt missing the downpour of all the rain. Dark smoky clouds covered the sky, only letting a few streaks of sun slip past the barrier. The repetitious sound of raindrops striking against the windowpane blended in with the occasional thunder that roared every 20 seconds. Everything was bleak, gray, and gloomy the class atmosphere felt dispirited than it usually was during exam week. People walked with water trickling down behind them while they steadily strolled to their seat. The prof didn’t start right away knowing that students were going to need a little more time getting to class. The thunderstorm was now beginning to sound like gunshots to ones ear…the uneasy feeling was

An electric shock runs through me, rain. I grab my notebook and rush out to my trusty front porch. Long gone is the smell of dirt. A new smell takes place, this calming smell of mud, minerals rising once more, awakening from their deep slumber that lasted through the dry spell also known as summer. I inhale deeply, excitement zips through my veins bringing my body to life. My leg starts to jump up and down speedily, my heartbeat picks up. A gigantic smile spreads across my face as my eyes stare out into the soft drizzle of the rain. Another shiver runs through me as the wind picks up gently once again. I look up to where the droplets seem to gently descend from. As I look up I see blue fighting with gray, nature not quite choosing which one would rule over the

The early morning drizzle was constant, threatening to become actual rain. Della stood on the corner, her blonde hair gradually becoming heavy with droplets, guaranteeing a day of bad frizz. She’d been praying for rain for months, despairing over the ravages of the extended drought in Northern California, worrying about what it meant for the future, and yet she felt irritated that the rain had chosen to come today, the day she had to take public transportation.

I suppose I’ll start this letter by giving some background information about my life. I was born in Albany, Georgia and have lived in the same house for my entire life. I don’t mind living in Albany now, but I definitely want to in the future. I have three siblings, two brothers and a sister; my sister and I are the closest of the siblings, even though there’s a fourteen year age disparity between the two of us. She practically raised me; she worked at the daycare that I went to, and I was usually with her when my parents were working.

I started writing essays for college scholarship to help me go to college with no debt. I felt this was my part to help my parents since the made every effort to provide for me through high school. I was passed in church and started helping in the nursery at age fourteen. I volunteer when even I could at church I was taught as Christians we need to help those in need I learn that we must be Christ like matt 25:36-46 of the parables Jesus taught on when they began came to the door did you cloth me feed me or help me? writing numerous essays for scholarship money has exposed me to so many charities which help so many different people and so many different situations the questions I have had to answer has helped me grow as a person by having me

I had a frightening dream last night, I dreamed that I was walking high up on an old railroad trestle. It looked like the one I used to walk recklessly to. when I was about ten years old. At that height, my palms were sweating just as they did when I was a boy. I could see the ground out of the corners of my eyes, I felt a swooning, sickening sensation. Suddenly, I realized there were rats below, thousands upon thousands of rats. They knew I was up on the trestle. They were laughing because they were sure they would get me. Their teeth glinted in the moonlight. Their red eyes were like thousands of small reflectors that almost blinded my site. Sensing that there was something even more hideous behind me, I kept moving forward. Then I

After the initial stumbling block more commonly known as residential life, I faced the towering challenge of settling into classes. Once I had registered (which was itself something of a dilemma), I had in my hand a sheet of abbreviations that rivaled a military briefing or a computer manual. My first class, on a Thursday morning, was located in a building called CBW, which stood for Classroom Building West. Surely the

I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.