My Locker-Personal Narrative

I found that there's people in high school that's going to want, what you have. I realize I don't have the luxury of explaining myself every time and I shouldn't have to. I see people finesse other people to get there way. They will be friends with you in the beginning but turn into your worst enemy at the end. During school, I had P.E class as my 2nd period and I had to change my clothes to get a good grade. As I took the lock out of my Locker, I started putting my clothes inside my locker and putting my iPhone in my bag. As soon as I put my bag in the locker, someone came to me and ask "is coach here today?" And I said " no, we have a substitute" he said " ok thanks man". After that we all left the locker room to go to the gym. I went back to my locker (the

“You’re gonna run until I puke”! Said coach as me and the rest of the team stood in front of him.We were in trouble for leaving the locker room a mess after practice one day after coach said not to.

There is one place where I go to when I have any problems. Stress leaves my body when I’m here. It’s also a place where I can go to make myself stronger, faster and better at sports. It allows me to get stronger and live a healthy lifestyle. This wonderful place of meeting my goals is the weight room.

Power, It surged through my veins as I took her life. I felt no remorse only happiness. Soon they would understand. I know they will. I stared down at her lifeless body. Time to take my trophy. I grabbed my little letter opener and cut out a small portion of her silky golden hair, tucking away the lock in a small bag and putting it in my box along with the others. Oh, I almost forgot, I set the little orange, now empty, bottle next to her. Now for the not so fun part the letter. I took my gloved hand and grabbed her limp one, placing it on the pencil once that was done I began to forge “ her” letter. Dear family and friends i’m sorry it had to end this way but I could no longer endure the pain… I started. I’ve been wearing a mask for so long and I was so tired I couldn’t truly be me… I love you all goodbye Winter ❤❤❤. Done I have studied her handwriting for so long now it feels so natural as i sign her signature. I kept imagining everyone's reaction oh they would be devastated and so confused on how they didn’t catch the “signs”. This feeling was so euphoric, I felt truly alive if for only a short moment. Anyways I got to get to calculus see you next time xoxo Angelo della Morte.

When we were playing ultimate football inside one of the players threw the ball to one of the sideline players. When he threw it to me for the touchdown I dove for it and caught the ball and got a touchdown. When I fell to the ground Jacob started running to try to stop me from catching it he was trying to slow down so he was basically stomping to try to stop himself. Then he stomped on my hand I yelled in pain Dawson helped me up it hurt really bad and then Mrs Dibbens asked me if I was ok. I said yes because I thought that it was just a little injury and it would be better by my next hour. When I went into the locker room I tried to change but my hand hurt to much. But I managed to do it the hardest part of changing was when I was putting on my shoes. When I left the locker room I was about 5 minutes late to my next period. When I got there he asked Mr. Hatch asked me why I was holding my hand. I told him that Jacob Haag stepped on my hand. I asked him if I could go to the nurses he told me yes and I

The Leaguetown Middle School wants to get rid of lockers but i don’t think they should because of the following reasons. Ok one reason is well if your in sports you have to put your gym clothes somewhere right? You can’t just walk around with smelly gym clothes. Bleh! Now that’s straight up nasty so students need so have somewhere to put there stuff. And they also have books they get from their classes and they would have to carry them around all day long for eight or nine class periods if they are in high school .

She glances down the aphotic alley where a few of her coworkers exit their workplace. Taking a deep breath, a musty scent occupies her nostrils. She looks to her left at the damaged dark green dumpster; the ebony lip is wide open and garbage is protruding from it. She tilts her head backwards and views the starry ski congested with silver clouds. Rain drops continuously collide with eyes; in an instant, they are flooded with rain and her vision is distorted. She looks back down and creeps a few feet diagonally towards the dumpster. The scattered tree branches snap underneath her size seven feet and elicit a worried expression upon her face. She shifts the Smith & Wesson nine millimeter handgun from her sweaty right hand to her non dominant

The cold steel refreshed my hand as I grasped the handle to enter the phone booth. Inside laid the payphone sitting silent in the claustrophobic room. It had always trapped me when I entered, and created an atmosphere of a jail cell. Luckily, my reason for entering always masked that imaginary environment because it was to connect with others and not to be left alone. Although, on that typical sticky warm Florida afternoon the jail cell surfaced and I felt like there was no escape. I was a prisoner in my own mind; being beaten up by regret and taunted by sorrow. But, as my tears fell and my mind continued to race with grief I grew stronger and my morals shifted molding me along with them. That phone call that day changed my outlook on life

Ever wanted to see the cleanest locker ever? I am giving the “Cleanest Locker Award” to my superb friend Alessandro. He spends huge amounts of time on his locker. His locker is never unorganized and if it is he fixes it very quickly. Alessandro is never late to any of his classes because everything is in order. His locker is the only thing that is organized all the rest of his school supplies are everywhere. If it isn't in his locker it is gone forever. Alessandro's locker, the cleanest locker on Earth is receiving this award because he has labels on his locker, everything is in class order, and he has his homework in one spot.

Initially it was challenging for me to keep up with my crew when hiking over steep, rocky trails at high elevations, while carrying a 50 pound back pack. Every day we had to get up early in the morning, set up and break camp, hike for 6-10 miles, pack/unpack our back pack up, cook our food, put all of the crew’s food and medicine (“smellables”) in a bag and hang it up over a tree, follow the Philmont Wilderness Pledge and ensure that every campsite, fire pit, and dish water sump is left clean. All this was mentally and physically very exhausting. When my backpack became very heavy about 48 lbs. and I was tired after 4-5 days, I realized that I was carrying the vegetarian meals I brought from home and the meal given to us by Philmont, which

As I squirm on the plush coal colored leather passenger seat I sense his neutral colored eyes staring at my pale unfilled face. While his hands firmly grasp the steering wheel he glances so much my way where I can hardly see his sharp nose, and concerned appearance. My highlighter blonde hair is breathing in the whispering winds as I gaze off into the distance trying not to make eye to eye visual. I know smoke is coming out of his ears over my costly purchase on my current coat, but I could not help it. I just could not let the vivid colored yellow and black luscious leopard coat get lonely. Upon the moment I am currently wearing the new accessory, but he cannot complain. At this moment we cruise down highway 102 in his new cherry red convertible.

For my first item in my Me Box i chose my dog, harley’s, collar. This collar represents my love for animals. I begged for a puppy for years, and just last september I adopted her. We have four dogs, but she is the first dog that’s actually mine. My love for animals goes beyond dogs, We have all different types of animals, like: horses, cats, ferrets, hamsters, fish, frogs, birds, chickens, and even raccoons. Being around animals always lightens my mood and relaxes me.

The street was eerily quiet as I crossed. So was Mike. Staring at me unwaveringly, he said nothing as I approached. The crow's feet framing his eyes, the ridges in his forehead, and the crinkles in his cheeks still stand out in my mind. How many nights had he lain on that bench, covering his face as the wind whipped against it? Now he hugged his body tightly. He was wearing an old pair of tan khakis, a shirt that I couldn't see clearly, and a light multi-colored jacket, its sleeves ending above his pale wrists, that was just slightly too small and clung to his body. As I gave him the money in my wallet, he took it--slowly--and stared at it for a second in disbelief. Although the street in front of the library is usually an amalgam of car horns, headlights, whining engines throughout the night, nothing--not

It was a cold December day and I only remember that because I used the window as an ice pack for my terrible injury. This terrible injury was something I never wished I would experience nor ever thought I would experience. It made my life very difficult for about two months and I never wish to relive that pain again.

“No backpacks inside the store” read the sign outside of the bookstore. I dreadfully took my backpack off and placed it on the floor outside of the bookstore. I had a vision of my bag getting stolen if I left it out there. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do but have faith. Moreover, I strolled into the store with my list of books and no idea where to look. I was searching the wide array of books while trying to decipher the bookstore language. I asked fellow students for help but no one seemed to know how to navigate this labyrinth. I noticed the shelves were divided into subsections that had a card and name on them. I figured this was the name of the author. Quickly, I searched a couple sections, but I had an uneasy feeling that I