My Hero's Life-Personal Narrative

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.

I woke up on friday may 27th , getting ready to leave for school and when L got to school i saw my two best friend outside both looking really sad and i walk up to them and aaliyah was crying and i asked what's wrong, She was too sad to tell me so my other friend lexi told me “mom died” at first i thought they were joking because how could she have died and i just said how and she started crying which made me cry i just wanted to scream and later on that day i was still wondering how stephani ,how could a beautiful,29 year old single mom with three kids that was always full of laughter and joy just die a couple days from her birthday and just at all.i have known her all my life well since i was four my heart broke i literally felt my heart

With_the_fiery_Aventador trailing_right_on my tail, I shifted on my leather seat pressing down harder on the accelerator pushing my Koenigsegg to its utmost limits. The speedometer was vibrating tremendously_that_it_seemed as if it was about to fall off. It was astounding that the fact the beastly car_was_still_on the road and not flying. The two masked men had been on my pursuit for the past week. I had not the faintest of idea on why they were chasing me.

The bittersweet defines me. These moments seem to chase me, to tear me down and build me back up. It was in Hyderabad, India. A city filled with the earnest cries of chaiwalas urging you to buy their steaming teas, the exuberance and chatter of countless people as you walked down the worn streets, the occasional herd of buffalos that seemed to give you judgmental side glances, but at that moment it felt empty. Thirty-two hours left—our flight was leaving back to Alabama.

While she lie staring at the cosmos painted on her ceiling, she remembered her question about the crime scene. Just her luck; she had left her things downstairs. There was not an ounce of willpower to persuade her to move. A groan of a new caliber of grief left her throat. She’d found herself rather comfortable in her current position, and the idea of moving was less than appealing. She knew if she moved she would never again acquire the comfort that she felt at that moment. Moments like these brought to her childhood dream of having telekinesis. While she was incapable of moving objects with her mind, she did have a brother.

I almost trip, the bright light blinds me from seeing my next step. An arm belonging to a body behind me steadies me. I place my hand on theirs as I turn around to see whose arm this belongs to. A dark haired individual grins back at me. I lose my ability to form words, I simply gawk. He chuckles and releases his hand from my waist. Without my command my hand grabs at his. "Just in case." I whisper. He grins and squeezes my hand. I turn around with a smile that blinded the sun.

I don’t remember my name, or most of my early life, but I know I was a thief. I was part of a group of thieves, five of us. “Do you remember where you’re from?” A village called Greenbridge. I don’t know how far it is from here. “Greenbridge?” Why, does it sound familiar? She hesitated. She didn’t know him, but if she was going to help, she had to give him reason to trust her. Besides, it might feel good to finally tell someone. “It’s where I’m from. I did something there that I’m… not proud of.” That makes two of us. “What did you do?” You mean, besides abandoning everyone I care about? My wife, my little girl, my friends? “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” It’s fine. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve done a lot of thinking. “Pardon me for asking, but what happened to you?” Now that’s a story.

The announcer was counting down and all I could think to myself was, “Please don’t die.” Standing dead smack in the centre of a herd of men and women, all of which were whooping and hollering anticipating the starting pistol to go off. Yet, there I was, praying that my 3 months of training wasn’t going to let me down. 5 seconds to go; and there was no turning back, what laid ahead for all of us was 11 miles and 21 obstacles that were designed to test one’s mental and physical tenacity. It wasn’t a competition; it was a trial. “Here we go!” my best friend Aaron declares sportively with a nudge as the pistol goes off, and our Braveheart charge was underway.

I’ve travelled all over this town, yet I have never seen this school before. After all, in small towns like ours, everyone knows everyone and everything about them. It’s the worst way to end my precious summer break; leaving the school I love so much along with my friends and moving to this abandoned place where all the kids fear to go. Rumour has it that the teachers here are mad. They feed off of the innocent children’s blood who dare to step foot in this dreadful place. I might be the next victim.

I never thought mondy would come around more slowly. I woke up at 5:30 in the mourning took a shower got dressed and walked down stairs to see that mom and dad were already up and in their leader uniforms and mom had made eggs, bacon and toast.

My hero’s journey begun with my call to adventure to graduate high school and go on to college. When I was in middle school, I never would’ve thought that high school would be so different yet so similar to middle school. It was different because there was a lot more students and you pretty much had to be more mature about things, but you still had to work hard and earn your grade. My supernatural aid which helped me in class, were books and a pencil. Most of the knowledge we needed to understand the class was in the books, a pencil, to take notes and write essays and other written assignments. My crossing of the threshold will be when I graduate and go on to college to continue my education and earn a degree, but I wouldn’t be graduating if it wasn’t for the help I had. Some of the main people who helped me were teachers who helped me understand many subjects, and

There’s a slim chance that a person can be strong all the time. Although that may be true, there’s an internal drive to want to be the person that everyone can rely on for support. I embody that person. I have moved twenty-seven different times, my parents are divorced, I have lived by myself for the past five years, and I learned how to live without people. However, since I knew what true loneliness felt like I made sure that everyone knew they could rely on me. I have never really cried and always carried the persona that I didn’t care what people thought about me, and I made sure that even if I was having a bad day that no one else was. I have been bullied ever since I can remember, until I gained personal confidence and was determined to

The soft, waterlogged dirt pushed its way between my toes whilst I marched on along the river as it coursed bend after bend. The flexed limbs of oak and hemlock trees hugged each other in an elongated stretch to eternity. Wind rustled against the copse. A kestrel landed on a branch in fair proximity to me. I had seen this bird before. He was a small, rotund fellow with a bright blue head and contrasting tan body. Unlike most of his brothers and sisters who had deep blue tips on the ends of their beaks, his was a solid yellow.

One warm sunny morning my mom woke me up. She said to me Bethany take care of James and Julia and don't go outside and your father have to leave. I think she thought I heard her but I was too busy sleeping then she left. I heard the car start and drive away that's when

Comprehensively, a person had a childhood where they had encountered adventures and had gotten a thrill out if it, thinking that everything that had transpired is real, like me… but when I became older, no longer did I hold the identical memory that had once deceived me. It had all begun back in 2005, when I was seven years old and my older brother, Tadas, was ten. We were always mindless and believing every lie that came across us, astonished and highly curious. My family had lived in Florida at the time, and we were not far away from the ocean. My aunt and uncle, who also settled there, were vast explorers and soon to be known as pranksters. They traveled several countries, continents, learned new languages, and anything else - you name