Narrative Personal Narrative

She carries symbolic bracelets and tangled up headphones and torn playbills. She carries crumpled sheet music, a highlighted play script, a rusty gun and holster, an old calculator, worn out journals for writing fragmented lyrics, passionate feelings, unforgotten memories, and so much more. Twice or three times a week she carries packets of law and a lunch that was packed that morning. She carries a water bottle that is always half empty, or much like herself, half full, depending on how you see it. Wyatt carries the priceless shark tooth necklace she gave him, locked away somewhere unknown. Hannah carries the cheap but meaningful books that she gave her, unread but still valued. Her mother carries the candy she gave her, hard but sweet, a reflection of her soul. Something they all carried in common, was that they all carried something that was given; taking turns, they carried pieces of her shattered heart.

I felt the tears push against my eyelids, threatening to spill onto my cheeks. The deep breaths that were supposed to calm me down were not working in the slightest and I wanted nothing more than to hide under something, anything, and avoid all responsibility for a while. Through blurred vision, I could barely make out the shocked faces of my friends. This was not supposed to happen here, in the middle of physics class. This was the kind of thing that a person should save for being safely hidden behind closed doors. I glanced down at the four little words on my phone and lost it. The floodgates opened. Hot tears turned my face into a network of rivers and lakes. The saltwater filled the dark bags under my eyes and turned them into oceans. Rivulets

I started my walk from the AGO which is located on Dundas Street West. It was a sunny and bright day early in the morning. People seemed to be walking towards the art gallery from all directions of the city as well as riding up on their bikes. The many bikes standing by the gallery gave the impression that many visitors were flocking to the site. The revolving doors of the art gallery were moving continuously, people were going in and out. The constant movement indicated to me that the place was popular. The entrance of the gallery seemed also to be a temporary meeting hub for people. It is by the entrance that people stood together and chatted. As I stood and observed the gallery, I also witnessed many groups of children walking

I always wanted an all-terrain mountain bike. That finally happened when me and my family went shopping at Walmart for a new bicycle because recently I learned how to ride a bike with two wheels. Due to my practice behind the handles my parents thought since that it was summer and I needed the physical exercise, that I should get a bike. Also that I couldn’t ride my original small dirt bicycle. It was a jolly experience on a large bike for the first time.

The bright white screen fills the room as I hold the remote up to the TV. I flick continuously through the channels, hoping something will take my fancy. I pause on a breaking news story. The voice of a woman fills the air as she explains. ‘A runaway escapee and murderer last seen heading towards the South end of Australia has disappeared. Anyone in the areas of’, I reach for the off button as the mumbles of voices drown out as the TV turns off. I put the remote down and shut my eyes. The dark patterns and swirls fill the darkness as I fill my mind with the endless possibilities from some of the deepest parts of my mind. I replay the series of my day over and over in my head. Replacing the mistakes in the day and presenting myself with what

I had been employed in the spirit realm. This wasn’t just part time job that I happened to obtain the fry. The pay sucked and I’m sure the working conditions wouldn’t meet the typical standards. Now onto explain how this came to be.

I remember when I was a little girl so innocent and carefree, everything was just so enjoyable. going to the lake the smell of the fresh clean air, the sight of clear flowing water and the laughter of my sisters and I. I was the youngest of three sisters (no brothers). my sisters always protected me and always showed me how much they loved me. well we all grow up as a child you have no worries and no clue of the realities of life ahead until we are "Grown" .

G sharp, C sharp, E natural. Finger 5, 1, 2, and 5 again. And then F sharp, and then…yes, I finally got it! I think to myself as I do a fist pump into the air. I had perfected a part of a piece I was playing that I had been struggling with for the longest time. My left hand was already tired from hammering away at the piano keys for what seemed like hours. I turned the pages back to the beginning of the song and played through the whole song. I was finally ready perform it at the recital.

Stop, stop, stop!! The kids are sleeping, please stop. “ I don’t care if the kids wake up you can’t do anything right, your worthless.”

John and I had been friends for years. We had both lived in Seattle, then he moved to New York because his dad found a new job opportunity. Coincidentally, my dad found a job in New York that paid better than his current job too, so we ended up moving as well. Both our dads were painters, and they had met while painting a bridge across the river in town. We lived close together in the outskirts of Seattle. Both our families were poor, and couldn’t afford good transportation and schooling. John had been 14 when I was 12, but we lived next door to each other so it was hard not to be good friends.

Some of the hardest things in life make you realize what you really appreciate. One such instance took place in a remote part of Wyoming far away from everything and everyone. However, such an experience made one couple closer and taught them how valuable family really is.

I stumbled out of the car, nervously awaiting my unavoidable fate. It was July 1st, 2010, the day after my 9th birthday. I knew what this meant. It was time for my yearly check up at the pediatrician. For the 100th time, I asked my mom if I needed any shots - probably my greatest fear in life - this year as we stepped into the elevator that reeked with the smells of sick people and anti-disinfectant wipes. “I don’t know, Jason. You survived last year’s shots, so you will be fine,” she calmly replied.

When I was 14 years old, my dad and I went rock climbing in the mountains with a friend and his son. It was the first time I had been rocking climbing anywhere outdoor. We had to hike in to the point where we could start climbing. We got to the top of the mountain and it was beautiful! On the hike down, my dad slipped in the snow and slid down the mountain. He hit a pile of rocks and broke his leg. I, being 14 and completely inexperienced, had to run down the mountain as fast as I could, while connected to a rope, to get to my dad and assess the situation. He dad had to spend the night on the mountain with our friend, while me and our friend's son were taken home by complete strangers at 3 in the morning. THe next day, I went into shock. I

Eerie, abnormal and sinister were the three moods emitting out of this town, Today there was an overcast of opaque, inky, black clouds surrounding the dark, dreary sky.On my way walking school.From around the corner, I hear a thumping sound resembling hail, I run rapidly down the sidewalk trying to avoid a storm.Promptly clattering to the ground like marbles spilled from a box.With great force, a large hailstone causes me to fall to the ground.Cross because I notice my backpack has been open this whole time and all my assignments due today are lying simply and idly on the floor.

Fragments. I was fragmented and slowly being tugged by threads. As I moved along the filaments, a voice, deep and melodious, urged me on. The consonants and the vowels were repetitious and at the same time comforting. In a timeless manner I became aware that my eyes were open and someone was standing in front of me. The nonsensical sounds sparked some recognition.