Narrative Essay - Original Writing Essay

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

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

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

For a year, I was not important to anyone. My family abandoned me, and I was certain no one valued me anymore. No one came looking for me. I was not that important. The program brainwashed me. It taught me I was a nobody...a nothing. I believed that with all my heart and unfortunately my mind.

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 impatiently waited outside the front gates of the school for my sister. When she finally hopped in the 1988 Ford Tempo that I was borrowing from my grandfather, we picked up my girlfriend, Leah Graves, and went home to change clothes and meet our parents. When we got home, we rushed to put on more appropriate clothing and pile together in one car and off we went. We were traveling to Jackson so Mama could get some work done on her Altima, and in the meantime, we would have a pleasant meal. Little did I know that this was not the true intention of this trip.

Everyone knows that “freedom 55” (the ability to retire from work at that age) has turned out to be a marketing slogan than a reality for most senior’s in America. But there are still an enviable few who were able to realize their dream (Susan Smith). In March of 2006, I became one of the few that saw their dream come true, at age 58. I retired after 28 years working with the mentally challenged individuals in a large state-run facility. I started working at the facility in the maintenance department, as a housekeeper cleaning the buildings. After two years in that position, I realized that I was capable of completing the duties of the assigned direct care staff, even though I only had a high school diploma. As a result of my natural empathic abilities to influence and manage people and the state offered promotional tests, I was able through the years to work my way up to a second level managerial position. Still, having completed all these levels in my professional life, I had not finished the main item listed in my preverbal lifelong goals, which was the completion of my college education.

• After spending time away from the draft of your narrative essay, read through the essay and think about whether the writing effectively recreates the experience for your readers.

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.

On 27Apr17 at 1439 hrs. I received a message from Sheriff Aukes inquired about my return to duty date/time & he informed me he was meeting with Nicole & Tim on 28Apr17 at 1000 hrs. as they wanted to speak with him about the circumstances surrounding the report filed by Eric.

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.

CRASH, was all I heard. I didn’t even turn around, and I knew that I ruined something. I turned the key, and slumped down in the seat. You know when you have a feeling that you’re 3 inches tall? That’s what I felt. All I

It was a Thursday afternoon and I was patiently sitting in my chair at school talking to my friend Tanya about what we were going to do that weekend. I hear a voice say “Mr. Johnson can you send Lynn to the office for check out.” I was excited because this meant I did not have to go to math class. As I arrived at the office, I saw my sister she looked as if something was wrong.

Ever heard of the expression “love hurts”, it really does. What is love? To me Love is something you can’t live without it or with it. Love is something that gets you hyped up when you look at special someone, it’s something that makes butterflies fly in your stomach when you talk to talk to that special someone, it’s the last thing you think about before going to bed. Have I have been love? Of course I have.

BY THE TIME CLIVE finally settled down and stopped his cat screaming, I was thoroughly exhausted and wide awake. I had to get up in one more hour anyway, and I realized I’d already gotten whatever sleep I was going to get. I might as well get up and make some breakfast.