Earl Babbie-Personal Narrative Fiction

While growing up several deaths that took place within my family. Some I had no idea who the people were but can clearly memorialize the funerals taking place and the reactions of those around me. Even though I cannot recall any memories of my great grandfather, I can remember when he passed away. Everyone was gathered at my great grandparents' house in Kerrville,

About 4 years ago I woke up to get ready for school and I could tell something was seriously wrong.Little did i know my grandfather was dying. My mom had tears in her eyes and I really did not think anything about it. And what was really weird was my dad was gone. I got in my moms car with all my stuff, ready for

I was awaken by my mothers frantic crying. Immediatly I broke down because I already knew what that meant. My grandpa was no longer living. We rushed to hospice were his cold lifeless body was still laying in the hospital bed. Walking into that room was probably one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. The moment we stepped into the door our family members were all circled around the hospital bed and all that was heard was weeping and crying. My mother was clearly affected the most by his death because she was the definition of a daddy’s girl. When she saw him laying there she instantly brroke down and rushed to his bedside and began talking to him as if he was alive. I remember her repeadtly saying “ I love you Wedaddy”. The look on my mothers face broke my heart. She had always been the light in a dark room. She was always the person that found a way to put a smile on everyones face. I had never seen her like this and it frightened me. Looking at my garndpa lay there lifeless and realizing I would never be able to get one of his famous hugs hurt

When I was 12 my grandfather died of cancer. I knew he was sick and was dying but we never discussed it. I was able to see my grandfather before he died and was able to attend his funeral. Two years later my grandmother died suddenly and we were able to attend his funeral. I vaguely remember attending a couple other funerals but I was really too young to understand what exactly was going on.

One day my mom came and found me and my sister and told us we had to go somewhere. We went and found our shoes and started heading out the door. My sister and I started hoping down the front steps just about running into a vehicle parked out front. My mom told me and my sister to get in, both of us were kind of scared but we did it anyways. So me and my sister attempted getting into the big vehicle, well it may not have been that big, but to us it seemed like it was. We drove for what seemed like hours till all of a sudden the car stopped. I opened the door and hoped out onto the cold hard cement. I didn’t know where we were at, I had never seen this place before. The people in the car and my mom told us to go up to the front steps and they will be right behind us. So me and my sister made our way up the steps and to a big front door. We looked and found a doorbell and chose to push it. After just a little while the door opened and this younger couple looked down at us with huge smiles on their faces.

As one drives up the California coast, they will begin to notice several things. First, the general atmosphere shifts. The further north they travel from Los Angeles palms and golden beaches, the cities begin to lose their positive, sunny vibes. They go from beach villas to industrial apartments to suburban neighborhoods to run down harbor towns. The positive emotional vibrations emitted from such architecture slowly surrenders its grip on its surroundings to a grim, hopeless one. As new, booming cities fade into sleepy and ancient villages only occupied by drunken sailors and lost tourists, the traveler will soon realize they are in a much less pleasant place as where they originated their journey.

My next door neighbours, The Johnsons, were all asleep in their coffins when I climbed the fence to get the ball. My family always had weird suspicions about The Johnsons… well.. all of our neighbors for that matter. We grew up living in a not-so-great section of Philadelphia, and things were always out of the ordinary. We knew all of our surrounding neighbors pretty well except for The Johnsons. They had a dog that would guard their fence 24 hours a day so we never had a chance to go over to their house to say hello. However, one day while we were walking by we noticed the dog was not waiting outside to attack.

What’s your story? When someone asks who you are, as a person, what do you think of? Most people will label themselves by their profession, or sometimes even by a flaw they find particularly annoying. They restrict their entire being into these tiny constraints, summing up their existence in a sentence or two. Everyone has their own story that they create for themselves, about who they are and what they do, but these stories limit us. They tell us that we are only allowed to be a certain way, to think and act a certain way. If we could just break free of these constraints, we could see that we don’t always have to live by the same plot. By reframing their story, one can grow to accomplish their goals, surpass their limitations, and even think

The day was June 23, 2017 in Huntsville, Al. A friend of mine named Jalen Caudle threw one of the biggest parties of the year. He had a DJ, buffet, mini bar and more. This was a huge event for surroundings schools alike but so many things happened at this party. Which lead to it being one the greatest parties of the year.

I went out the place and sat in her car. "Maybe some music will help me consume all of this." Sky clicks the radio on.

Anyway, back to Spencer. I was leaning against the wall, and then I someone ran into me. I stumbled and fell sideways, right into Spencer. For a couple seconds I couldn’t figure out what happened. All I knew was my head kinda of hurt and there was beer spilled all over my shirt. Someone held out a hand and pulled me up. That someone was Vivian. At the time, the only thing I knew about Vivian was that she scared the shit out of me. Two years prior to that day, she looked a lot like Alice, actually. Cute blonde hair, bright blue eyes, wore little dresses to school. Then she changed. She died her hair black, got a nose piercing, and I hadn’t seen her in a dress since. I hadn’t even talked to her in several years when she pulled my beer-soaked

My grandfather was in his house, not feeling very well due to a battle with pneumonia. He was in the quiet home by himself as a result of my grandmother being gone and busy. It was a peaceful afternoon and a normal day for all of us. All of a sudden, WHAM! He was starting to experience extreme chest pain. This had caused him to call her.

Puritanism is a way of approaching experience in which man and nature subordinate themselves to God. Jonathan Edwards, a Puritan, wrote a Personal Narrative about his experiences being a Puritan. Edwards does not circumlocute his words, but instead he recapitulates them in order to stress their importance. Although he was diffident at first, Edwards eventually embraced God. Edwards uses the word “sweet” frequently to describe God. This passage shows aspects of Puritanism with the sense of God in one’s life and the acceptance of predestination.

When I was seven years old, I was outside playing catch with a softball with my sister, Katie and my mom. My mom collapsed due to what we believed was the heat due to the temperature being ninety plus degrees, but it turns out this was the start of infinite trips to the hospital.My mom had passed out due to reasons that were unknown at the time. My sister Katie and I ran inside the house and called 911 and told them what happened. My mom was still on the ground. Within ten minutes, the ambulance showed up on our doorstep and proceeded to wake up my mom. They were asking her questions about her health and she responded confused, “I’m fine. I do not know what happened.” The ambulance then, took my mom to the hospital and ran multiple tests and even heart tests. Katie and I were playing with our Barbie dolls while we were waiting in the hospital room for her test to get back. It seemed like we were there for a million years. As we were patiently waiting, my mom looked scared. I remember her telling me how her dad died from a heart attack when he was only 40 and so did her grandfather. The doctors were severely concerned about her situation.

My cousin worked on barges with my uncle on the night shift. The night had ended and he was going to stop in a motel to stay for the night before driving home because he was so tired. He took off and my uncle was expecting him to be just fine and call him in the morning, like usual. The next morning, my uncle received a call from Cory’s number. He answered, and the coroner was on the other line. I cannot image the pain he must of felt thinking it was his son calling him, but hearing the voice of someone telling him his son had passed. My dad immediately called his brother to find