Example Of Personal Narrative

My schooling began in Cali, Colombia. At the age of two, my mother matriculated me at local nursery because she worked in the daytime. When I was four, my mother enrolled me in a non-religious private pre-school. The school was known for having a strong program in math and literacy. In my country, education is mandatory until middle school. My homeland uses an alphabet and similar to English it goes from left to right. In pre-school, I remember singing the national anthem every morning. I would stand up alongside of many other students and with our hand across our chest we would sing the entire national anthem. I also remember doing a lot of hands-on activities like counting the elements of each set and making a line to the corresponding number

I always read about people going through things like this in books and movies but I never thought that I would be a victim in the twisted novel called my life. In 2013 I went on a field trip with some of my 6th grade classmates and teachers.We were on our way to West Virginia. I was kind of scared but at the same time I was happy because I was taking a break from doing school work.

The sky melted from a clear blue to creamsicle orange and pinks to a dark, starry navy. I could see the sun’s transition really well inside the little glass diner I worked at, Cosmo’s. The ceiling and walls were constructed entirely of glass, and blue lights made up the floor, giving the small diner a cold, lonely feeling. The booths were silver with pastel blue cushions, the tables silver with shimmery blue tablecloths, pressed under glass. The bar table, that enveloped me, silver with blue lights underneath the glass top, accompanied by tall, blue faux leather bar stools.

When I was younger, my uncles to joke about the fact that I was americanized; that I didn’t know how life really was back in the motherland. I would just laugh and tell them to leave me alone. Then, I saw what they meant when we went to Africa in 2009.

Everyone is gone, but not me, I was stuck in the rumble of the torn apart city. Were filled around me are hurt souls and blood. Quite frankly, I don't even think there is anyone left. The loud noises hurt My ears, the sight of what I hope isn't blood is stinging my eyes, and the thought of what truly happened melts my brain. I couldn't move my head hurt so much and my legs were stuck under something I couldn't call for help because when I did all I heard were screams of the people in the city. Out of nowhere, I heard noises, not human noises, but something was definitely coming close I couldn't talk or yell for help so just cried so loud even Nevada could hear me. Finally, someones digging me out, but before I get a glimpse of them There goes

I am the youngest in my family and my brothers are all much older than me. When I was born Mathew was 20, Nathan was 19, Lachlan was 16 and Cameron was five. Mathew, Nathan and Lachlan are my half-brothers so they never lived with me, they live with their mum in Adelaide, so I grew up with Cameron. Since my brothers are so much older I became an Aunty at a very young age.

Seriously, shoot me, the Lauren’s corporative banking husband of twelve years thought as the awoke to a standing ovation being given to the Symphony’s guest conductor, Mr Ludwig Something or Rather.

The music was blaring. It sounded like the music of a late nightclub. I couldn’t focus. I’ve never been a good multitasker. It’s impossible to listen to music and write an essay at the same time. My eyes glanced to the side to check Mira’s half of the dorm. Of course, she wasn’t there.

As of right now I am currently a senior at Lemoore High School and my goal is to Enlist in the United States Air Force when I graduate in June 2016

I was born on a very cold winter night in the month of February. I was born into a middle-class family but we lived in a very rough neighborhood in the inner city. I was a very smart child who enjoyed playing sports and participating in various activities at school. Growing up I had a passion for helping others and being a protector for my family even though I was the youngest out of five grandsons. When I was at school in the month of September I remember my teacher cutting on the television and seeing two planes blast through the World Trade Center. I thought it was something out of a movie I was very young when it happened so I didn’t know what was going on. I saw footage of people jumping from the buildings, running through the street trying

As a little girl I remember the excitement I felt going into first grade; this was going to be the year we would get homework, learn cursive, and get book reports assigned. Through the years I have noticed many people lack this yearning to learn and attend school- I found this disinterest astonishing, it was saddening to think that others weren’t excited to further their education. Though I never thought I would feel this way, when I was sixteen, my great- grandmother passed away; I found myself in this position of struggle. A loving and mother-like figure in my life disappeared from my life, This led to a series of altering events that in the end made me despondent. I felt alone. At this time of my life I experienced what it is like to not

Last year was a very difficult year for me and my family. My husband relocated our family for

“Rima, honey, hurry up or you'll be late for school." my father called down the stairs, trying to make it seem like he still cares.

My childhood is a vague distant memory. I struggle to remember various details of my upbringing; I credit that, partially, to my dedication to a thing called sports. Ever since I can remember, the thought of sports gave me the chills and made me feel a sensation similar to the one I feel when someone mentions the woman I currently share a six month relationship with and I hope to one day call my wife. Ever since I can walk volleyball and soccer were both engraved into my DNA, both being sports my parents played in their teenage days. One of the things that I can remember, rather clearly, about my childhood is that I didn’t always love the idea of doing too many things physically. In fact, I didn’t join a team of any sort until I was 11. The first few months were quite the struggle for me, I came close on a number of occasions to giving up entirely.

Everyone defines himself or herself by something, whether it is their sport or their best subject or their favorite club. I am not excluded, and despite my involvement in fencing and my love of biology or my involvement in the International Baccalaureate at my school I think of myself of something else. I am above all an independent person. This is something I have carried with me for most of my life and education, as it came about when my father was deployed to Afghanistan during my fifth grade year. This was the same year my brother went off to college for the first time, which left me as the only male in my house. I was too young to realize I could not be the man of the house; in my mind, I had to try to be. I began doing more dishes, dealing