Ice-Personal Narrative

When I was young, I fell in love with competitive figure skating. The ice was my second home, and every minute I spent on it was pure bliss. By the time I was ten, I had practices four times a week and several competitions a year. Unfortunately, my path to success did not leave me unscathed. I had many falls and accidents over the years, and getting back up was almost never easy. The worst accident occurred when I was first starting to skate. I was four years old, and it led to my parents almost taking me off of the ice forever.

My mother was running to me, the first time I was seeing her run that quick. Picking me up with a panic on her face, wondering if I'm okay. I had to tell her that I was okay because I wanted to keep on skating no matter what. Even if I was a mattress to fall on I was still okay. I got back up and kept practicing over and over again until I was getting smoother turns and a steady roll without a single fall. During my wonderful skating journey, I was having a rainstorm on top of my head, water droplet's rushing down my face, skating around and around. Trying out new tricks like turns and

First of all I was in my dark room with the only light being my t.v, I playing Xbox with my friend Skylar, we were playing Rainbow Six Siege a counter terrorism shooter. It was a late on a dark, stormy night, it was bomb objective and only I was left on the team to face five other enemies defusing the bomb and I slowly and stealthy with his silenced pistol picked off about two enemies outside the objective roaming and then pulled out his primary the 416-C Assault Rifle and went in blazing in the objective and his heart was racing he picked off another two enemies and that’s when he began guarding the defuser waiting to find the last enemy. “Can you search cams Skylar?” I asked Skylar.

The sun began to creep up behind the towering pine trees as I sip on my torrid coffee. I glance at my watch which reads 5:45 am, I gather my tackle box that's overflows with hooks and line and stick in underneath the damp boat seat. The water glistens in the morning sunlight, I aboard the scent of pine needles which is always prominent the crisp air of Northern Wisconsin.

Mark Depsey III is the president of the country club social committee, making him and his wife ranked at the top of the socialite hierarchy.

Running as fast I can to get to safety from the crackling fire. Everyone around me is scared some people are running around fighting and yelling all I hear is Ahhh. Others are on the floor crying and don't know what to do this whole situation is the scariest thing that ever happened in my life me myself is trembling inside all I'm trying to do is get to the lake.everywhere I'm goings building crumbling and falling all I hear is skirr boom I'm scared something's gonna fall on me. I walk down the street and I have seen a burned up dead body on the floor I can smell the burnt up flesh I was disgusted and scared. I asked myself will happen to me. I'm a couple blocks away from the lake I'm so happy. Then I turn around and see a shadowy figure

In November my sister Brandie came down to my house. Brianna and I got our items. Then I had walked outside with the items and taken all of it to the car. I went back in then we had to say our good-byes to our endeared idolised mother.

Stepping on to the scratched up ice, however still gleaming in all the light. I remember shaking of fright and of the cold atmosphere surrounding me. Not knowing what was coming next. Will I fall?, Miss a step? Forget my program? Soon enough my music would start and I would be off. Thinking about my program, hoping I wouldn't mess anything up. It was all a big blur, nothing was clear to me. The audience was filled with parents and skaters from all parts of the COS (Central Ontario Section). The judges seemed to be staring me down, trying not to look at their mean, cold eyes, I stepped on the ice. Everyone staring at me, it made me very uncomfortable, and I felt pretty awkward being there. I tried not to show my fear, however I don't think I did that very well. There was this little girl at her first skating competition, and the first one to go, how will she do?

It may be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always this bald and beautiful. I, like many other young men, was a victim of a vicious receding hairline. Me being so young, I fell victim to a plethora of cruel jokes, I mean let’s face it, not many sixteen-year-old girls swoon over a young boy with the hairline like their fathers. I was constantly ragged on by family, friends, strangers, and anyone else with a working pair of eyes. Thus, I grew to be very self-conscious about my hairline, or lack thereof. Then that all changed one day with a mirror and a razor. Looking back at it, I can’t help but laugh and smile when I think about the days when all I wanted was a full head of hair.

Thinking back through my many years of hockey, many good and bad memories come to my mind. The first story was of me getting knocked over, keep in mind I don’t have a major recollection of this story besides the main parts because heck I was five. I was started skated at the age of four, according to my father, I was a pretty good skater. After a year or so of skating, I was skating at the arena and got knocked over by a high school player. After that moment I didn’t try skating again for years, but the love of the game ran through the blood of my family and me. Hockey called to me, and it would not be the last time I laced up a pair of skates.

It was my first time at the outdoor rink that year; the rink just froze over so it was fresh uncarved ice. I was there with some acquaintances that I would be proud to call my friends and we are all excited to go tear up some ice. We start by tying up our skates which I help my one friend because he can not get his tight enough. As

At that point my knee felt fine and I was dancing my hardest. Then it was time to learn a combination, this was the hardest part because you had to know the dance, the counts, do the steps , and stay on the right timing because if you got all jumbled up and forgot the choreography, it was pretty challenging to recover. “Groups!” The Dance Teacher yelled and we divided ourselves into four groups. “Group 1 on the floor!” “Here I go,” I thought, as I stepped onto the dance floor, now was my time to do the routine full out because I had extra space since there were less people dancing, but also if I messed up, I would stick out like a sore thumb! I went through the counts and steps in my head, then the music started. I danced and followed the steps, now it was time for a double pirouette which is super easy, but then my leg buckled it was stick straight, that's when I fell out of my pirouette and the music sounded muffled, my vision, foggy. I snapped back into it even though the pain was harsh, but that few seconds where I didn’t know what ,to do I looked so

Everyday life is so mundane. It's the same thing every minute of everyday. Eat, sleep, fuck, get high, cry, scream a little, eat, sleep , fuck, get high... It's so exhausting just to try and live. Each and every painfully slow moment on an endless cycle of repeat that I found harder and harder to repeat. Thankfully though Brett didn't seem to remember anything from the night Drew had come over a few weeks ago. He couldn't even remember getting home, and while I was disappointed in a way it was for the best. There had been enough people in my life who had seen me at my worst and I had no desire to add another person to that very long list.

Have you ever felt as if you were standing at the very beginning of something & yet had no actual idea of what it was? The only point of reference we have while met with this intersection of sorts, is an unexplainable feeling, one anchored deep within our bellies. We owe it to ourselves to honor this feeling as an indication that there is something more to be explored, to be experienced. I recognize this deep-belly tug as “The Surface”. A sort of starting point of whatever occupies our most guarded thoughts at the most random moments of the day; leaving a trail of lingering curiosities and “what if’s," birthing the seeds of our passions. When we “Break Through” the surfaces of culture, gender, sexuality, trending talking points, and other

“Woah!” I yelled as I regained my balance from almost slipping on the ice. I had to walk gingerly to my older sister, Sierra’s pick up.