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.

It was a normal Friday in March except for the fact that I got my license. So my friends and I thought about what we were going to do now that I have my license. Well, we cruised around town thinking we were hot stuff and that we were better that most kids in school since I had my license before many of my friends. We decided that we'd go off-roading since I had the huge truck. It was a hunter green 1979 Ford F-250 Custom. It had huge 33-inch tires, a loud crackling exhaust, and a unique 2-inch thick oak plank flatbed. It really was a beast. So we roared around the backroads hitting bumps and flying into fields just causing a little mischief not doing too much harm. After a week of horsing around

I snap back to reality, as my phone buzzes over the lulling drone of the other customers, and quickly

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.

“I love you,” I remind him as I step out, and I think I hear him say it back.

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

As my 8th grade year in Willis Junior High began to come to a close, the pressure of high school arose earlier than I expected. Transitions weren’t something I was unfamiliar with, but losing all strong connections with great friends and amazing teachers scared me severely. I knew that after middle school, my closest friends and I would be separated. With busy schedules, contact was uncertain and limited. For the first time, I felt what real anxiety of entering a new area of my life was like. I thought of nothing but everyone’s expectations of me, and how I might fail without the support of my friends. Unfortunately, I concluded right away that I did not look forward to entering high school. The change in my emotions during this time was important

I take a step back breathing deeply, I shake all thoughts from my head remembering there is a task to be done. Shutting the door with a light thud I rest my head in my crossed arms on the hood of the car.

I tear my eyes away from the slip. I cross my eyes, trying to convince myself it won't be as bad as it probably will. I'm not great at the whole convincing thing.

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.

You hear the whispered shuffling of nearly silent footsteps across shag carpeting. Soft hands surround you, shrouding you in darkness and leaving only overbearing cherry lotion scents to give you a sense of where you are. A nauseating feeling comes in as you feel yourself rising, the air ever so slightly vocalizing a hushed whoosh on every side of you. A flood of warm ochre light blinds you for a moment, bringing you back to awareness. The hands that startled you before now carefully tear the plastic that once coated your body off, and you can feel their warmth much stronger than when they first held you. An air bubble pops quietly and you quickly find that a rubbing motion is spreading parts of you over rough lips that exhale a wind

I was about ten years old when this happened. It was in the fall of fifth grade, and I had just gotten settled into the new school year. My dad was deployed to Kuwait, and so for the time being it was just my mom, my brother, and I. He had been deployed previously, so I was used to him being away for months at a time. One thing that helped me get through the times he was deployed was my school who offered a special class called TDY on Friday mornings before the bell rang. TDY (Temporary Duty) was specifically for students whose parent(s) was deployed and also offered support for the children who needed help coping.