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

It was a cool November day, in the middle of Afghanistan. As a medic, I was sitting outside my make shift aid station with one of my buddies sharing stories about home. We hear a loud explosion right outside of the wire. I looked up and could see the cloud of smoke billowing up from about two hundred meters away. Not knowing how bad the situation was, I grabbed a few of my soldiers, our translator and my aid bag and ran straight to the smoke. When we got there, a group of civilians were huddled around a group of people who were yelling, screaming and crying. The translator found out that a group of three men and three children were walking around a field when one of the children stepped on a mine. One of my soldiers grabbed the mine

My job at injury was working as an assembler for Volt Information Services, Inc. This job was in the heavy duty range. I had no history of injuries to my right foot prior to my injury. On a typical day I walked and stood for the whole eight hour shift, and was required to lift “nodes” which weighed 18-100 pounds each, about 30 times a day.

On 08-26-2017 at 1908 hours I was dispatched to 1029 South 11th Street in reference to a suicidal subject.

The day was Thursday, June 6, 2013. I remember it like it was yesterday. A humid night at Fort Riley, Kansas. My husband, Robert, had been deployed to Afghanistan for the past seven months. I was anxiously awaiting his return. We had previously been through the experience of a deployment when he deployed to Iraq three years earlier, however, experience can't prepare you for this moment. My three children and I had been waiting for hours. It was ten o'clock in the evening but we were awake as though we had drunk a case of Red Bulls. We were standing in a huge, empty building with all of the other families waiting for their Soldier to arrive. My stomach felt as though it was in a million knots. I couldn't believe after all of this time he would finally be back!

After arriving on location, I approached from the driver side and made contact with the male, later identified as Steven R. Dennis. I advised Steven the reason I was called out to the scene and I asked what his whereabouts of the night where. Steven stated that he was over a friend’s house and they were hanging out and that he consumed only two (2) beers. As we were engaged in a conversation, Steven was extremely slow with his responses and his eyes were bloodshot. As he was speaking, I could also smell an odor of an alcoholic beverage emanating from the interior of the vehicle. I then asked Steven to step out of the vehicle so I could administer SFST's. Steven complied and opened the door. He then stepped out and nearly fell. He used to left hand as balance as he rested it on the roof of the vehicle. I also observed the Steven was in a soft cast on his foot from what he called an "Achilles’ injury." I advised Steven then walk towards the front of my vehicle so I could speak with him further. I asked Steven again how many drinks he consumed tonight.

One decision I made was bad and the consequence was not good at all so my decision i made was too not do my book project and too do it on the last day and i got a Nc and my grade was not good and what i plan to is to get a better grade this Quarter and not to do stuff at the last minute

One, Two, Three, I heard them counting while I was under water holding my breath as they pushed on my head so I stayed down. I felt like I was slowly dying, and if that’s how it feel to die underwater, I’d rather die in my sleep. It got to the point where I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. I hit someone’s leg so they would know to let me go. I slowly rose up. “Thirty five seconds” said Michelle. That’s how long I could hold my breath underwater. “I’m a little fish,” I said to myself. However, Danny went next and sadly, he tied up to me. After Brianna and Justyn went, I was no longer in first place. We decided to hold off on the game and take a break for a little while. Michelle was known as a fish, she could live in the water is she

My road into choosing medicine has been a turbulent route, but the bumps and hurdles along the way have created defining impressions on me. Over the years, I have been pushed and pulled into and away from being a physician. I interest in medicine initially sparked my high school friend asked me to take his job in doing his father’s, a primary care physician, paperwork for the year. I was in need of some gas money, so I gladly accepted. After signing towers of paper work regarding HIPAA, I began doing the simple task of scanning medical files and typing them into the electronic system.

Well, I can’t say that I am not scared. I mean…I am kind of standing beside my shed looking for someone. Let’s see, what can I do to get this off my mind for a few minutes? I am not really thinking straight right now, but I will keep thinking. Suddenly I hear a twig snap, and just like any “ brave” boy would, I go and investigate. I turn my flashlight on to get a better view of the tree rubble. I don’t see anything so I turn to leave and come face to face with a masked man. Out of nowhere he pushes me to the ground and sprints off. When I look around, I see that the ground is littered with broken glass, but I think nothing of it. For some reason when I stand up I feel a whole lot shorter and surprisingly itchy. I do one quick glance

The girl who I’d grown up with since preschool had a small tremble in her hands and couldn’t write legibly. Being bullied at a young age and didn’t pick up a pencil for the rest of elementary school, took its toll. But she sung the loudest songs and kept you on the edge of your seat with the passion that flowed from her vocal chords. She could talk for hours on end and listen just as well. She did all her work vocally and may have gotten the best grade in the class. Never giving excuses and always taking the hard route, and continued humming along the way.

In the year 2008, I attended elementary school enrolled in the third grade. I enjoyed outdoor activities with a burning passion, and I had many friends. One weekend my best friend Dimitri slept-over at my house, and he and I decided to go on a bike ride with my younger brother. Unfortunately we only had two helmets that functioned properly, but since I always put friends first, I gave my helmet to Dimitri. We were having a great time racing up and down the block until my brother found a pair of rusty broken scissors lying on the side of the road. An awful idea entered his mind at that moment and he decided to throw the scissors at me. During his first attempt he missed and I sped away and yelled at him. Ignoring me, he threw them and missed

My dad always says, “bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway.” Until the age of 15, I had never stepped into a school, until one day, I gathered my courage and began my academic journey. I was homeschooled for most of my young life. While I studied the standard subjects, I was able to learn in an environment completely free and focused on me. It was an amazing and unique way to grow up, but it was also a bubble. I was unaware of much of the world around me, and as someone who was, at the time, quite shy, never really explored. I spent the first semester of highschool in an online program, but I did not like it and decided to transfer. I knew nothing about public school, and starting a new school half way through the year was a huge risk. I knew it was going to be difficult and scary, but I also knew it would help me grow as a person.

Mikey took another bow, glowing with pride. The club was only a small venue but his gig had gone well, incredibly well. He’d done two extra songs. Even though they were under-rehearsed the crowd had loved them, forgiving his stumbled words and the odd missed note.

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