Narrative Essay On Personal Narrative

So, I got lost in the middle of Silverwood in Idaho with my little cousin…

The darkness consumed my cousin, but not completely. A part of me did not want to believe that she committed a mass murder and maybe, just maybe it was someone else. But the proof that the police needed was all there. We weren’t that close but it pained me to know that someone who i thought to be as a kind and caring person could kill people.

Last year, in October during the cheerleader’s concert, that my mom and dad were singing at, I asked, “Do you want to dance?” My mom said, “yes”. Walking out to dance, she fell and accidently tripped me and landed on my ankle. It felt as if someone was breaking my leg in half. It got really numb where I couldn’t feel it, but I still knew I was in some pain. Picking me up off the ground, my mom sat me on the bleachers. Everyone came over there and it was really embarrassing. My dad carried me to the car and we drove to the dollar store to buy me an icepack to put on it.

A few years ago cheerleading was a huge part of my life. I was on two competitive teams that worked hard three days a week to perfect our routines. When we were not practicing we were encouraged to attend open gyms which were aimed at practicing our tumbling skills. I attended the open gym being held one day not knowing that it would be my last. As I landed a one handed cartwheel my knee was twisted so drastically that I heard a loud pop that followed up with intense pain. After icing it and resting for a few days, I started to interpret my pain as being more serious due to the fact that it was giving out on me while doing daily tasks. I also had two close friends that had torn ligaments in their knees that needed repaired with surgery, so

After what seemed like an eternity of rigorous tests and dealing with the painful longing of wanting to hold a precious baby of my own in my arms, it happened; my dreams at long last came true. I was pregnant! But something happened; I felt my world come crashing down. The thought of bringing another life into this world terrified me.

In 1951 my grandfather first stepped foot on American soil thanks to a workers permit. As you expect before entering my grandpa was given a thorough body check where he would undress and would be checked for any diseases if found any would be sent back.

My mom squeezed my hand with tears running down her face. She quickly wiped her eyes when the nurse walked in. We were ready to get the appointment started. First came the normal check up procedures. I desperately wanted the doctor to come so I could tell him my symptoms and get out of this place. The nurse finished up and we were told to wait for Doctor Phil to come in.

There are two types of people in this world: those who take risks and those who think about it but do not. The people who take risks are the ones who make a difference in the world. The people who remain sedentary want to but they do not act. They tell themselves that they will do it tomorrow and they think they have time “for a hundred indecisions” (Prufrock). But humans are not immortal and it is time that fact is realized. People should live life to the fullest by taking risks because that is how life is measured.

I walked out of the locker room and stepped onto the ice in Valley City to start the game for third place in state. Once my team and I were all on the ice we started doing our warm ups. Soon the buzzer goes off telling us we are done with the warm ups and we all skate to the bench.

I could tell you so much about me like I have moved 3 times with my mom but never with my dad, or I could tell you more about when I lost my cat Egon but that is not what I am going to tell you about. Today I will be telling you about all about me.

I sit with my feet crossed in one of the two chairs, holding a Better Home and Gardens magazine to distract me from the sterile views and smells of a medical office. After finding no resolve for my stress in the pages, I glance up and immediately spot what looks like an EXIT sign, but its lettering shouts at me, ¨AUTHORIZED ONLY, MAGNET IS ALWAYS ON. ¨ Then, my vision is caught again, and I look down below the two vast white doors and there lay a massive black rug. It also screams, ¨AUTHORIZED ONLY, THE MAGNET IS ALWAYS ON¨ in the same big, chunky, red font as the sign hanging above. The words cry out to me as if to warn me of what is to come from behind those doors. I look down and twiddle my locker key in my hand anxiously as I wait for the Radiology Technologist to pick me up from the small waiting room.

Walking into a restaurant that serves almost nothing but pizza, which is something you have never had before, kind of frightens you thinking you might not even like the pizza. Once the waitress brought out this steaming hot pan with gooey, cheesy, and mushy pizza on it made me wonder why I have not tried this any sooner. It made my taste buds crave this taste for the next two weeks. Another thing I’m crazy about is chicken alfredo. My mother served this delicious dish to me for the very first time when I was eleven years old. It was so creamy and moist. The sauce in it gave you a million different tastes; the chicken in it was so moist and juicy. Lastly, a couple of months ago I went to Outback steak house in Tupelo; they accidentally

“Hey Dacoda let's ride down that hill over there.” “Ok then but are you sure we should do that?” Don’t worry you won’t get hurt.” “ Alright then” That's how it all started, with one of my friends saying let’s ride down that hill and i of course decide to go down first and let’s just say what a terrible mistake i made. Once he said that i was all in on the terrible and unintelligent idea so i went down first and it was fun at first and i was going pretty fast and with the wind on my face i didn’t have a care in the world but then about three to five seconds later into ride i crash and hurt my right leg and right side of my face right by my cheek. I didn’t cry but

Looking back on my childhood, it is clear to me that I was never a very feminine girl. I remember asking to pee outside; trying to be like my older brother when I was only just in diapers. I did wear dresses, and I had some skirts that I enjoyed wearing, but only to church. However, I can distinctly remember getting grass stains on my Easter dress from the time I left the front door to when I reached the car sitting in the driveway. I never really felt the pressure to look nice; this has been permanently documented in any pictures from before middle school in which I was wearing an outfit of my choice. My look until about seventh grade was a slicked back ponytail, a t-shirt, and basketball shorts that were handed down to me from my older brother.

My Grandmother passed away when I was Fourteen years old a freshman in high school. I have never been more devastated in my entire life. My grandmother and I were very close we spent every day of summer together when I was little up till I was old enough to stay at home by myself. I remember that every Friday we would go to the bank so grandma could get a check cashed and we would use that money for lunch. My grandmother would always let me chose were we were going to eat and me being a child it was usually McDonalds just to play in the little playset. On Thursdays my grandmother and I would go to visit the sick from church and would make fruit baskets for them. Going to the nursing home was my favorite thing to do because you could see the