Helicopter-Personal Narrative

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

I have lived in only one location my entire life: Edwardsville, Illinois. A peripheral suburb of St. Louis, it stands as the rare oasis of people in a desert of corn, pinned in its own personal bubble. Due to this blend of time and isolation, I developed a natural familiarity with my hometown. But, throughout my childhood, I longed to break free from the confines of the bubble and venture outward. However, this changed last summer, as I walked through Richards Brickyard, our family heirloom, that my great-grandfather, Benjamin Richards, founded over 120 years ago. I felt these childlike sentiments slip away. The bubble that had surrounded me for so long began to vanish, and the picture that it had been obscuring was slowly revealed.

It was my 16th birthday and my parents had decided to gift me a drone, thinking that I was responsible enough to use it without breaking it. All I can say is that they were mistaken. A few days after my birthday, I took the drone out for a flight and, me being an ignorant teenager, decided to fly the drone at top speeds without knowing how to control it properly. I ended up crashing the drone into my neighbor’s roof and hitting a tree before the drone landed. The drone was a monstrosity with pieces of wire hanging out, and the frame disfigured beyond belief. Out of fear of what my parents were going to do to me, I hid the drone in my garage and just acted like nothing had happened. Later that day, my mother came to my room and told me my cousins

Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment read white letters on top of an electric blue cover. My fingers grazed the lamented face of the book. I found myself falling back onto a brown leather couch in an uninhabited and silent house. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of wind running through the trees in my backyard, and my accelerated heartbeat as I looked at this new book. I opened it up daring to step in a world foreign to me. The thin paper pages were covered with a plethora of words. From there on I couldn’t tell you anymore. I was lost on a guided tour in my own imagination. I was lost in with the flock of bird kids who never met their parents. I was lost in the fight for survival as a group of mutant children with 14 foot wings

Recently, I hiked around Pilot Knob with my father and a friend. Though the view of the surrounding land was gorgeous, my attention was captivated by the knob itself. Staring upward in awe, I marveled at the unique rock structure. One area was rough and cracked from centuries of tree roots and ice expanding cracks. Another was polished smooth and curved from the wind. Reflecting back to that hike I realize that I am Pilot Knob. Over time I have been shaped and worn by various events, choices, and individuals. Some have polished my character and identity smooth. Others have chipped away at the outside. Over time a beautiful formation has emerged. Today, my thoughts and identity are formed through three aspects of my character and life, my inquisitive

I watched out the window as he ran outside and thought to myself, maybe he is just out for a walk. Leaving that to the side, I went downstairs and bumped into the Fury, who told me my brother was transferred to another camp and I would be offered the job to be a soldier. I did not like the way this was going.

As the helicopter approaches to make it’s landing, a giant whirl wind of hot air and sand hits my face, all I say to myself is, “Here we go.”

“Hard right!” shouted my brother. Immediately, I threw the flight simulator into a massive right turn, hoping to line up for a shot at an enemy. Unfortunately for us, it was a little too massive, and we swung to the side, facing the wrong way. I wrestled the controls, and finally stabilized on target.

And I saw this girl she looked tough and she likes been playing warket ball but didn’t even look tired and the way I saw my big and fierce brother call her name all sweet and gushy,and the way I saw her look at him ( with a bit of announce), and finally the way my brothers eyes looked like they were going to cry, I knew that my brother was going to attacked and aim it straight for me. So turns out that my brother did aim for me but I saw it before he had the chance to.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! My eyes pop wide open as I roll over to disable my alarm. I let out a big yawn. It’s 4:00 a.m. and I’m up and at it again. There is nothing like a sweet routine to start the day. Each day we may have something set to do, but sometimes we might start one way and finish it a different way. Some routines you can’t make shortcuts. No matter how hard you try, you are going to do it in the same order each day. For example, being in security forces in the United States Air Force and being a Non-Commissioned Officer, I have assumed the duties of a Flight Chief. My job is to report each morning on time before my troop members, ensure I collect all pass-ons from the previous shift, and make sure my flight is taken care of properly. My day to day activities may differ than many, but it is a job that I take pride in.

Not anything can measure it, not light nor miles nor time nor words like "depth" or "height" and I am, insect-like, a speck, so slight so blank so mute so pale within the white yet poised along the cusp of sound and sight some primal part, down deep where neurons bite where forces stir that blurred

Every year I came to American I choose Delta Airline. Because of the excellent meal specials, like the palatable noodle with tomato chicken, or veggies luscious salmon with pasta. After the heavenly staple food, they also have the mouthwatering desserts such as Brownie cookies. Last but not least, they provide the Starbucks coffee and multiple wines.

It was mid June now all the lakes and rivers in Alaska were completely thawed now. So it was no surprise when my supply company Alaskans Last Line told me I would be using a floatplane. But instead of converting my plane they told me “We don’t have time to convert you plane form the tundra tires it has on right now to floats. That could take a day and we don’t have time for it. So we are assigning you to the Champ GC7 with the tail number 911.” They said that I needed to take off right away because a storm was coming our way. They made me take off without even completing my preflight checklist because of how fast the storming was moving. They said it would be fine because the mechanic already went through the whole plane but

As I sitting in my room, playing GTA 5, I started to wish that I could be in the game itself.

We found a parachute and and jumped with me holding on to holly. Then I spotted a sniper back at their base my gun was out of ammo but I did still have my