Narrative Essay - Original Writing

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

In the summer of 2013 I moved in my dad’s house for the summer to learn how to cook. Moving from Cherokee, AL to Florence, AL was a stressful move. My Mother and I agreed it was best I learn from someone that has being in the field for over 15 years. The game plan was to go work with my dad a Dale’s Steakhouse with my dad all summer. I made sure I grab my notebook and plenty of pencils so I can ask him questions.

I never thought the day would come where I’d have to admit to myself I had an addiction. The hardest part was to except the fact I was an addict of painkillers and admitting it to my family so that I could get the help and support needed to get clean. The road leading to my addiction started with the factors of my childhood, always trying to fit in and not being supported emotionally from my parents. Having a child at the age of sixteen was the second factor, which made me grow up faster than a normal child at my age would have had to. Living the life of an addict was a struggle everyday but, getting help was the hardest part of it all. I’ll live with this disease for the rest of my life because recovery is a

As I saw him walk towards my locker at school, as he usually did after 8th period everyday, I could tell what was about to happen. My name was all that I would let him say before I finished what I already knew he was going to say. "You're breaking up with me". And then I just turned and walked away as he called my name yet again but did nothing to catch up to me. I walked down the hallway by the counselors office in the B building where my group of friends usually hung around and exclaimed that he had just broken up with me. They offered me quick condolences before I walked to my bus and sat quietly till I got home. What then felt like a bitter goodbye eventually felt like a necessary sadness in order to obtain happiness.

15 hospitalizations in the last 5 days have been reported in a tourist booming city along the coast of California. Many enter the hospital with swollen feet, coughing, fever, vomitting, uncontrolable muscle contractions, bruissing, and some even have their skin splitting open in random areas on their arms and legs.. Many autopsy results have shown a rare venom that is a trait to only one animal in the world throughout each of the patient’s blood.

As the storm rolls over the house, lightning cracks in the distance lighting up the package on the front doorstep. The box had white and blue stripes on it with a red ribbon holding the lid on. As I was bringing it in out of the rain, I noticed a note on the ribbon saying “Grandma: bEWarE” It’s written with some sort of dark red ink and some sort of sticking indented into a splotch at the bottom of the card. I didn’t think much of it and left it on the kitchen table to look at it tomorrow. I awaken to the sound of the cardboard lid falling on the floor and the note from the ribbon left inside the box saying, “bEWarE.” I looked around franticly for a few seconds thinking someone was playing a prank on me, but nothing, just a silent house. I put the box and the lid in the bin and started to get ready for work but I couldn’t get the note out of my head.

My eyes were the worst mixture of bloodshot, purple and torture, my body in the worst state possible having gone seventy two hours without sleep, a meal and a proper shower and my mind, a complete mess. I was physically and mentally exhausted, my body and face displaying it all, yet I don't think I had ever came to know who I was more than at the very moment I saw myself completely shut down.

radio that she had a subject detained at Jack in the Box located at 524 A ST SE

Gowing up to spend the past 18 years of my life on the Chicago Westside has been an interesting journey. I currently live in the Austin community, where there is a population of 98,514 in 2010 and 85.1% is Black, 8.58% is Hispanic, and 4.43% is White. Growing up in an area of complete violence and poverty felt like a game. Making sure you stay on your side of the block, making sure you’re home before dark, and even making sure you never walk alone. Never. A lot of people get scared when they hear about a life like this, but it's reality for me, and I honestly feel pretty comfortable with the people surrounding me. They look like me, talk like me, and even dress like me. We all watch out for each other. It's a family beyond blood that was built in my community. I live on a block where it is 95% Black. Besides my family, there is only one other Hispanic family. I never really left my community or the type of people I surround myself with either. I honestly didn't feel comfortable leaving and going into a “White” community. But my comfort level was really tested when I left for the summer to the

Opening, option, lucky chance, possibility, regardless of the synonym used, opportunity is often overlooked. Who can lay blame? Life is busy. Adults have work, homes, children, volunteer activities to distract them. Students have school, practice, jobs. Daily obligations keep us from seeing opportunities or at least that is a convenient excuse. Don’t take chances, don’t call attention to yourself, keep your head down, the expected road is the safe road and consequently each day will securely turn into the next. That was my existence, one of the crowd, one of the many. Then I sorted socks.

What started to be a beautiful day turned into a dark, stormy night. As the dry lightning cracked across the sky. I had storm clouds gathering in my eyes. I couldn’t wait for the so called twister the weatherman called for. I wanted everything to be blown down. I wanted nothing left. I wanted every brick, board, and every door destroyed. I wanted every window shattered until there was nothing left. I started to hear the screaming sirens as I looked around there was no one to be found. So I locked myself in the basement as I listened to screaming wind. I heard my dad scream “Bri let the rest of us in I had to call your brothers down to take some shelter.” I smiled as I let them in and thought to myself, man I can’t wait to see the damage that will be done. I kept telling myself maybe every brick, board, and door would be destroyed and every window shattered.

A bright Sunday afternoon when the average teen who works, will stay at home and study. One particular teen, by the name of Phoenix Lowell, is finishing up his Calculus homework. He is occupied by the job of a part-time librarian. As people know: That libraries are closed on Sunday afternoons, leaving employees to do as they wish. Now in the brilliant city of San Francisco, CA, there are thousands of things to keep you occupied. Now all that and Phoenix chooses to study! Now that is no way to spend your free time for a 17-year old. Phoenix squinted his eyes trying to see if the symbol behind the number on his calculus homework was a factorial or an x. His dirty-blonde hair drooped down, blocking his focus. “Why does calculus

The burden of motherhood can prove to be far too tough for some women in today’s society. One habitually is informed about a woman who either abandoned her child for adoption to a firehouse or even worse, which could be better, left unmentioned. Some mothers can fill the role of motherhood and beyond. The female who filled this niche in my lifetime was Zulma Enid Saldaña. Not only did she go above and beyond with her role as my mother, but also surpassed expectations as a father in my life as well.

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.

One would think that purchasing your first home would be a very fascinating experience; after all it is one of the most major purchases of your entire life.  In America, home ownership ties in with the American Dream and the spirit of working hard to one day earn through hard work a home with a white picket fence. My husband and I felt that it was time for us to reward ourselves for all the hard work we have been putting in over the years by purchasing our first home, which was well overdue. I quickly learned the process of purchasing your first home can be very frustrating and stressful. However, if you survive the home buying process the reward is priceless once you move