Make Up Personal Narrative

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

Elizabeth is sitting in the living room on the couch in her pajamas. The lights are dim and low and papers are scattered around her. The home is silent except for her fingers tapping away at the keyboard and the occasional shuffling of paper work. A notification sound comes from the computer. Elizabeth leans in and stares at the screen with her eyebrows crumpled as she reads. She leans back and her face becomes blank as she stares off into the distance. She closes the laptop, stands up and goes into the bedroom. As she approaches the bedroom door she reaches up to the top of the doorframe, grabs and object and puts it into the pocket of her pajama pants. Elizabeth enters the bedroom, climbs onto the bed, brings her knees to her chest, wraps

When deciding what to write this paragraph on I had to choose a topic that I know a lot bout, and feel strongly for. I decided that I would write on how I met my boyfriend Conor, because it’s a very complicated story. It was early January when I first met Conor, but I didn’t know anything about him, but a few weeks later I found myself hanging out with a few friends and this kid who was always around. We all decided we liked having each other around, so we kept hanging out for a few more days… by this time it was the end of March and Easter break was coming up fast. I was flying out to San Diego, April 2nd, there was supposed to be an ice storm the day of my flight so I left two days early. When I was packing I thought why not snap chat my

As the doors opened I saw the white ceramic floor, the red and grey lockers, and the alphabetically arranged hallways. I was in an American High school. At this moment a jolt of energy gushed through me and made me feel on top of the world, however as the day progressed, my head started to observe the ceramic floor more than the diverse group of people in this school. I felt like I was an “inbetweener” and I am not even bi-racial. This feeling of being an outcast made me homesick. A few months into the school year my English Two teacher gave me a book called “The Gifted Hands.” It was after reading this book, about Ben Carson, I realized I am not the only kid in high school that is feeling out of place. I learned that although our experiences might differ, we were all students trying to skip these few years and become a senior.

It’s almost like a fuzzy dream, it’s a clear blue afternoon and I’m riding in the back of an old pick up, through the golden hills of my hometown and looking up at my aunt who smiles down at me. Although, I don’t remember most of my childhood, this is a memory that makes it through the haze just enough to recall, that afternoon with one of my favorite people in the world, my Aunt Lisa.

Fragments. I was fragmented and slowly being tugged by threads. As I moved along the filaments, a voice, deep and melodious, urged me on. The consonants and the vowels were repetitious and at the same time comforting. In a timeless manner I became aware that my eyes were open and someone was standing in front of me. The nonsensical sounds sparked some recognition.

That dress combined with his suit could provide me with an enough money to pay my brother's medical bills and I would still have money left. My eyes followed the women as she sat down at the table with her husband. Hearing a clearing of throat coming from the jackass in front of me my eyes move to his face.

I went to Fordham Preparatory School a private, Jesuit, all-male high school located in the Bronx, New York City. My school has many aspects that make me like and dislike it. I had to wear a suit jacket, tie, and dress pants as my uniform which I did not like. Not being able to choose what I wanted to wear was frustrating and I felt very restricted. I also felt part of a set wearing the same clothes as everyone else. I am very glad that I am able to wear what I wish in college.

It's hard when people judge you when they don't even know the full story. When my mother past away this Christmas brake it effected me in more ways than I every realized it would. Her death allowed a variety of people such as; strangers, acquaintance, family and friends to view mw completely different from the girl they use to know for years or even the girl they knew last semester.

I awoke with my head clouded with images of failure. My dad, beating me with a stick for not going out to get milk. My mother, hitting me across the head with her hand yelling at me for not making friends. My parents were very strict when it came to my studies, social life, and chores. They made sure I was taught right and how to impress girls for my 16th birthday, when I would choose a wife, but I had no business in doing so. I was 11 and my parents were already getting ready for my wedding.

The evening before school, Edwin was gathering his supplies and selecting what he wants to wear. His father asks him why he had been acting so strange. Edwin glanced at his father with a grimace. His father tried to shake it off and ignore the rude remark. A few seconds passed and his father left the room.

Once upon a time, on a small town called Smallville, there was a boy named Ej. He was just a normal boy that went to school, hung out in his barn to think and looked on his telescope to look up at stars. One night outside of his house, he lays down on the wide open field with the grass swaying with the wind. He looks up to the stars and says to himself "What if I could make the world a better place?" Right after he says that, he sees a rapid, giant red ball coming down from the sky. He was too mesmerized to move. It came closer and closer to him until it finally hit him. Everything went black.

When I woke up I hadn’t realized it was my birthday. So I woke up not knowing what was going to happen next. I sat down on the couch tired my mom had a eager face that made me happy because when my mom is happy we go out for dinner. And i asked my mom what was the special occasion she said don’t you remember i responded what. I guessed my mom was playing around with me so i just started asking my dad and my sister but they all thought i already knew what was going on. It was not that late it was around three. I was kind of frustrated then my mom took me to chuck e cheese my mom ordered me some buffalo wings and told me to go play around. I was playing all sorts of games I met this kid who was really good at a racing game like I was. At the

It was a normal Saturday evening get together with my extended family and close family friends enjoying each other’s company. There was a large selection of barbeque, sides, and drinks. We were all enjoying ourselves playing 31. I am only sixteen at the time and was privileged to be able to take part on the adult festivities. The card game is fairly simple, you are dealt three cards and the objective of the game is to be the closest to 31. In my family, we have a $1.50 buy in to the game and to continuing playing the game you must pay 50 cents for each additional games lost.

“You are so lucky that your mom picks you up and drops you off at the bus stop every single day. My mom never does that for me except on a few occasions when the weather is terrible” my friend April said to me once during a bus ride.