Personal Narrative

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

I will start this off with an introduction. I am Kelly Rose Keschner, an incoming sophomore in Highschool. I would say I get pretty good grades and try so hard in school to prove to myself and my peers that I am a very good student despite what has happened to me.

I think about it for a moment. "Thanks for the offer babe, but I'd rather fly this one solo" I reply to him.

‘’I was on my way to back to school night I was extremely nervous to meet my teacher and when I got there I heard Andrew then I turned around and…’’ One time when I was in second grade I was on my way to back to school night I went to meet my teacher her name was Ms. Pepler. She was nice at helping me put my stuff in my desk but I thought she would be meaner in the school year so when me and my mom got back in the car I said ‘’I think Ms. pepler is going to be mean this year.’’ My mom said ‘’ she seemed really nice at back to school night’’ then I said maybe you're right.’’ Now it is the first day of school and I was nervous because I thought I had a mean teacher and I didn't have any friends it was just me and my cousin. The first day of

It was one of those oddities; though identical twins, they had celebrated different birthdays: first, Molly, born on April 1, 1972, at 11:47 PM, and second came Megan on April 2 at 12:17 AM. Their parents, Meryl and Bill, thought it best that the twins celebrate on their own days and had always held separate parties for them. Bill adored “his girls,” and Megan was probably his favorite. A parent shouldn’t have a favorite child, yet, they all, more than likely do. It’s either the one that they’ve carried some sort of guilt about, for one reason or another, or the one that highly reminds them of themselves. In Bill’s case, it was definitely Megan, he enjoyed her spunk (a quality he thought missing from the other two children). It was his attraction to her high-spiritedness that had Meryl, on countless occasions telling him; “You are letting her get away with

I woke up as usual a couple of years ago on September 20, I rubbed my tired eyes with my hands curled into fists. Uncovering my head from the large blanket I had, I was blinded by the brilliant light that hung above my head. A few moments later, after my eyes had adjusted, and my temporary blindness left me, I stumbled out of my bed and tripped to my closet, still dazed from just having woken up. Once I was ready I dazedly walked down the stairs, hanging onto the wooden rail tightly so I wouldn’t fall, though I almost fell more than a few times. My grandmother was sitting in her grey rocking chair, watching The walking dead, she heard me trip off the last step coming down the stairs and turned her head slightly to face me. She started to say

I got out of bed at 3 o’clock in the morning to my mom shaking me. It was a Saturday in the middle of summer so I was a bit confused, then it occurred to me that I was leaving for a mission trip. I remember getting to our church as everyone was praying and about to leave. I apologized for my timing and we continued to pray. We left for Springfield, Kentucky caravaning with 4 toyota mini vans filled with luggage and kids. The drive there consisted of sleeping, cramping, and a horrendous odor. We reached the center of Kentucky and arrived to the church we were staying at at about 1 p.m. Saturday. All the boys in our youth group went to check the place out and immediately started to play basketball in the gym. When all the other youth groups showed up from Nebraska and Georgia, they began to join in our game. We played basketball for about 15min before we all gathered together to have our introduction to the week.

Well, I can’t say that I am not scared. I mean…I am kind of standing beside my shed looking for someone. Let’s see, what can I do to get this off my mind for a few minutes? I am not really thinking straight right now, but I will keep thinking. Suddenly I hear a twig snap, and just like any “ brave” boy would, I go and investigate. I turn my flashlight on to get a better view of the tree rubble. I don’t see anything so I turn to leave and come face to face with a masked man. Out of nowhere he pushes me to the ground and sprints off. When I look around, I see that the ground is littered with broken glass, but I think nothing of it. For some reason when I stand up I feel a whole lot shorter and surprisingly itchy. I do one quick glance

You can never judge a book by it's cover, sometimes that book may be pretty on the outside but it could be broken on the inside like a mirror that was dropped with pieces that could not be put back together. I come from a family where we were once a “Family” but we let differences brake us. At this point in my life I was eleven years old learning to be independent,learning how to handle school on my own, not letting others define me as a person or who i was going to become. Again I was only eleven, a lot of eleven year olds i know today didn't do the things I did as a kid. Now there was a time in my life where i played with barbies and had a favorite blanket that i could not let go of. Every family goes through things there is no such thing as perfect.

It was late at night around 10:00pm, I had just got out of school. It’s dark and windy, and there is no soul in sight. I was scared out of my mind I usually get out of school at 7:00pm but tonight I stayed back for extra credit, and all of a sudden when I looked at my watch I noticed it was 10:00pm. I frantically walked to the bus stop which was a few blocks from my school in hopes that I could catch a bus ride home, but there was no bus. Then I decided I should walk to my boyfriend’s house and see if he could walk me to my house witch was a scarier neighborhood then his. But when I got there he wasn’t at home he was still downtown at his dad’s store. Now I’m all alone, and something in my gut told me that tonight wasn’t going to end well for me.

Do you how it feels to be cheated on when you were madly in love with that person? There was a girl named Dominique Carter. She was in love with a boy named Dominic. She knew how it feels and she wanted revenge to those that hurt her, so they could share the pain she felt. Dominique was plotting revenge, and she knew just how to do it. She was hurt because her own ‘boyfriend’ and ‘best friend’ betrayed her.

A couple of summers ago, I went to adventureland with my friend kaiti. She was my best friend at the time. Her family invited me to come along free. We had an awesome day!

I scrambled across the floor, my knees grazed and bruised purple. Catching my breath, my head spun and I quietly reminded myself that I must keep breathing. In and out. Steady. I silently recalled all the places I've hidden, crossing them off the list. He'll look at those places first and I couldn’t afford to be caught this time. I told myself that everything was on the line, I had to flee - hide.

The strobe lights mirrored the pulsations of my heart, it felt more real than ever. Dancing up against my friends, I gazed his way to see if he was even noticing. With the DJ now finding the chance to rest, I strutted confidently just past his group of friends in hope of catching his attention.

It was almost time for her to prepare dinner for the woman , but first she showed her to her room which was everyone’s room who had set foot in this house at one time or the next. She loved it, the pillowcases were skins of dead raccoons, I softened it and sewed it to make 10 pillowcases. The sheets are cowhide that took 10 years to finish, and the blankets were stuffed with the hair of the women and handful of men Sarah had killed since being twelve. She sat her bag down, she changed into her evening best and came down for dinner. Sarah had made thigh roast and vegetables. The vegetables were from the garden out back and they seemed to be the best they ever tasted, but only because she fertilize the soil with the leftover organs. The bombshell was beautiful, the best one Sarah had ever laid eyes on, she was the first one she felt attached too. We ate dinner and Sarah slipped rohypnol in her drink. She passed out at the table long enough for Sarah to get her