Mikasa-Personal Narrative

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.

After checking on dinner Katt calls for KeVonna. the youngest of the girls however she was 9 years older than Kyngston the baby boy. Happy to be called away from her sisters bickering over who helped the most in the house. Knowing She never could seriously argue on her own behalf. "Yeah momma!" she gleamed as she looked at the food being prepared. her large eyes smiling with excitement. under a huge messy bun of curly hair were plump cheeks on a round face helped convey a youthful look of innocence. She was skilled at using it o her advantage as Katt found it difficult to look at her and stay angry. KeVonna having to always say what's on her mind without thinking usually got away with it. actually everyone let her get away with a lot of things.

I’d heard the name before. Shasta. For some reason her name stuck with me the most. After my the first class ended, I walked up to her and started to speak. “Shasta! It hasta be Shasta!” she blurted out. What? I must have looked super confused because she started laughing hysterically “I’m sorry, I knew someone would ask about my name.” She grinned really hard. Is she gonna tell me? “Oh yeah sorry I’m named after a Soft drink and what I said before, yeah that was the slogan in the 1950s.” That’s roughly how my first encounter with Shas went.

That was a lot of money, and I didnt want to let Tony down so I got in the car and started to drive. As I drove the road was empty. I had confidence I was not going o get caught. It was a slightly wormer day out witch might have been because the sun was out. I had the windows down and was blaring music just trying to enjoy life when a cop pulls out behind me.

“Shut up, Alec. Tessa, this is Alec, my pain in the ass cousin.” I waved as a way of greeting. Talking would just hurt too much right now.

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away. By that I mean about an hour or two drive from visalia. When I was eight and my brother four. We had gone tobogganing with our family. The snow was glistening white and quite untouched by any other people for there was no lemon flavored snow.

On a Saturday morning, around 10am, my family was getting ready for my niece’s (Maritza) 4-year-old birthday party. After 12:30pm we were already at my sister’s (Adele) house, ready to give my niece a hug and her annual present. At the moment Maritza wasn’t home, so I stalled for a bit. Chatted with their neighbor, few high school friends, and their wife’s. Finally, she showed up along with her father. The first person she hugs is me, I’m her favorite uncle, according to her, as she hugs my legs and looked up and says, “hey uncle J.” I replied “hey?” with a bit of a curiosity on my mind. Her lip had a big red lump. I managed to not ask her what had happened on her lip. I’m thinking it’s a “I fell down” type accident. The party went off, and

The night was another quiet one , the morning even more quiet . No more family sit downs at the table , just coffee brewed from whoever wakes up first and help yourself to breakfast. I sat outside the porch with my coffee , first day of October with the fall feeling in the air , I was looking at nothing , I pulled out my cell phone and decided it was time to tell Trever my input on who is doing this. I heard his phone ringing , but it went straight to voice mail , I left a long message explaining everything , hoping this will get him to look into her.

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll see you when we all live in peace and harmony. I’ll see you on the other side.” My great-grandmother, Minda, was a ninety-one year old lady from Russia who had a passion for dance and music. Minda, I called her Omi, filled any room with joy and happiness. Omi fell deaf at a very early age, which led to her family's move to America to get a stapedectomy which repairs hearing loss. Unfortunately, doctors in America were unable to save her hearing. Even though she was deaf, she still sang and danced her way through life, until the very end.

Heading to her final class for the day, Sanika is frozen in her tracks as she catches a glimpse of Nyoki, her breathing becoming tapered, she reach for her chest as it begins tightening, she starts feeling . *Will he be understanding of my situation? Please be okay with working together around my schedule!* she thought as she watched Nyoki and Brendan walking to class. "How was class Sanika? Was Nyoki mean to you?" At the mention of Nyoki's name Sanika lost her train of thought, turning around she saw Miki. "Huh, the class was great and Nyoki let me borrow a pencil, so I can not say he was mean to me in the least bit, but I did happen to get paired with him for our first assignment!" Sanika said hiding her anxiety looking back out the window.

I noticed it was getting harder to finish assembling my gun; I was losing the outside light. The sun was already setting, even though it was just after three. I remembered when I had gone to Middle School, during winter, of having to walk through Arkham's icy atmosphere instead relaxing in the warm luxury of riding in the car, which we'd sold to defray, in part, another of the old man's expeditions, this time to Nepal in search of the legendary Plateau of Leng. Such dangerous destinations meant nothing to me at the tender age of thirteen, of course, except in that I could no longer bask in the warmth of the Nexus's heater.The Eastern horizon would be barely beginning to lighten by the time I reached the gate. I got home just after

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.

Home is the beginning of one’s book. It is where your story begins, forms its characters, shows its purpose, and reveals its ora. This is how mine is written. Home is on the buzzing highway down a bumpy gravel road. It’s Brandon, Mississippi. It is the only home I’ve ever known. Home is the smell of homemade biscuits and tomato gravy on Saturday mornings. It is “Bless Your Heart” and “Yes Mam” and “No Sir”. The little bedroom in the back of a grey double-wide where Carrie Underwood songs played and where I learned to curl my hair and put on mascara. My cousins and I running around with mason jars, chasing the lightning bugs. Bar-B-q on the back porch and never meeting a stranger. It is the morals learned and the identity

My throat began to close and it felt like a ten pound dumbbell had replaced it. In a matter of second my breathing became about ten times quicker and I started to cry. I started to snap until my fingers became raw. My sanity had just dissipated from the lack of sleep. This is when I knew I was ready to stop caring and give up.