Personal Narrative

“What if I fail?” I asked desperately. “What if I have to go back to school? I don’t want to go back, I want to be in college, with the other smart people!”

I had only one thought as the black wave was about to engulf us; run. I bolted inside screaming, making sure Winnie May close behind. Dust burned my eyes. “MA! PA!” I shouted as I threw open the wooden door of our 2 room brick house, Mommy! Papi! “What happened Mason?” Ma and my Pa had been talking about our farm. It had failed to produce anything for the

My entire life I have always been the smallest person in the room. In elementary school, I was a four-foot-nothing, fifty-pound, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pretty little wisp of a thing. My best friend, Michelle, was, in contrast, was a year older and nearly two heads taller than me, and outweighed me by at least once my own body weight. She also loved to wrestle and would take any opportunity to smash me in a wrestling match. These matches were friendly (if only in the sense that after they were over we would both stand up and go back to adoring each other) but nonetheless highly competitive. Looking back on it, she probably should have been able to kill me, but, try as she might, she never could - she didn’t even win more than half the time.

When I found out I was moving I was terrified. It was the year of 2009 and I was only eight years old. It was me, my mom, and my three older brothers. We were moving from a tiny town in Bastrop called Beekman all the way to Sterlington. Who knew this would have been the most terrifying and exciting moment of my life as an eight year old girl.

The bright yellow trim around their house chipped away from its base revealing a dull gray that reminded me of storm clouds. The fifty foot gravel driveway to their front porch was infested with tiny weeds. We called these little guys “lemonheads” because of their skinny green stems and thick yellow heads. Their house had a distinctive aroma. One you could never forget but also never explain. It almost smelled of a kindergarten classrooms, like crayons and wood. Some days, when the sun was high and all the doors and windows were open, it smelt of daisies and crisp pine trees. Their house usually was where I started my day. We would assemble in either Kevin’s room or the plastic painted castle on the side of their house and discuss our ideas for the evening. The youngest brother, Robby, always seemed to want to make mud pies or cut each others hair. Kevin and I, on the other hand, loved exploring the backyards of the cul-de-sac. With my whole family owning 5 out of the 7 houses on the court, we had a lot of vast open desert and mountain to venture through and make our own. All the back yards had two things in common. They didn’t have a fence line and they were nothing but broken down cars, sticker bushes, and mountains for miles. The mountains are where I learned

Divorce. A shaping tool that impacts the child’s future immensely. With no additional income source, my fresh off the boat mother had to work constantly to keep the bowls filled with rice. However as a direct result, I would have to take care of myself as my mother was rarely at home. My strict mother would never let me outside so I filled my time with video games. Alone with my video games, no one can question my actions or behavior. With only a mother as a role model, I develop a feminine personally. I thought I was just a normal boy, and growing up with this mentality became problematic. Combined with my mentality and higher pitch voice, people would make fun of me and never took me seriously. I never understood why causing me to stay in

I stared, face pressed against the glass window, leaving smeared breath marks. Trying to get my last glance at the house, but my tears making my vision blurry. I could see faint outlines of my friends waving goodbye, I knew I’d never see them again. The car was dead silent besides the sniffling and the sound of the car going over the bumpy road as we drove up the road until the house, my friends, and neighborhood were out of sight. I was born in Framingham Massachusetts and we lived there happily for years. My siblings and I had lots of friends there and we also had family close by. One day, we found out that we were moving to Sudbury, my dad’s hometown. My parents came to assent and had decided that this wasn’t the place they wanted my siblings

What do you think of when you think of your home? Some would say bright city lights, others would say being able to wave to their smiling neighbors as they water their grass, but when I think of home I think of six hundred acres of corn and beans with the sound of distant moo’s in the background. When I think of home I think of agriculture and all of the hardworking men and women who make it possible for me to have a nutritious meal three different times in a day. My father, Dennis Moore, is one of the many who not only feeds me but also feeds you.

For a while, I had been running away from the terrifying incidents. All I saw were men with big guns and people shooting. Everyone had a curfew. No one got out of the house after dusk. Life wasn’t the same, school wasn’t the same. My routines weren’t the same.

School was letting out for summer and there was pure excitement in the air, or at least that’s what I thought. I was 15 years old and I had a huge summer in store since I got my first car and I could drive anywhere I wanted. I always had a great relationship with my grandfather ‘Pop’ and since he lived in town we did a lot of stuff together. He was 79 years old, but you couldn’t tell it because of his energy and health. I knew ‘Pop’ had been sick but I never thought twice about it, because he had always been really healthy. Being the young stupid kid I was I never went to check on him because it was summer and I would hate to miss out on something with my friends. That was my immature mindset, which made me feel very lonely for the majority

The world and its great variety of places have had an impact on my life, but only one has turned me into the person I am today. My home, Zapzalka Farms, is the foundation of my life. Who would have thought a small farm just four miles north of the little town called Bowlus would teach a young man so many valuable lessons about working hard and strong moral values? Looking in from the driveway, I see the house where I grew up, the two story structure composed of 115 year old crusty yellow concrete brick surrounded by flower beds and 50 foot cedar trees. This house has helped me through everything, from birthday parties as a child, to writing Comp papers as a student, I do not know where I would be without it. As I make my way down the driveway surrounded by seven foot cornfields like a mouse searching its

We thought it was a good idea to continue our trip. Marlon was still in his sleeping bag, and had to force him to wake up. We had packed our materials and we’re ready to get out of this wilderness. After a hour of walking, we had come across a farm. The farm looked very different compared to the time we had came from. The tractors were all in dull colors and none of them has a cover. The plowing machinery was also not as advance. In our time, the plowing machine was capable of doing more, and it took less time to plow the whole field. I could already imagine the inconvenience that these farmers had to face. Right next to the field, we saw a small house with a man sitting on the porch reading a newspaper. We all went over to asked for

Life can always push you trough big changes in any instant of your life. I honestly would have never thought that at this very young and short age my life would have changed the way it did, to be completely honest it was truly a blessing. I had been born and raised going to a catholic church with my parents and sister, every Sunday at eight a.m. My family and i would be at church, it was only an hour long and it always went by really fast actually. I know my parents only wanted the best for me and my sister, to be raised by a good family that believed in God, but to be honest as i grew older it started just becoming a habit to be at church every Sunday, of course my parents hoped for me to actually learn something every time

It’s totaled now, has been for the last month or two. But this is before that when it took me all the way to a new place two hours away. Away from my friends away, from my family, it drove me away from everything. The 2009 tan Chevy trailblazer with cloth interior that took us places, all kinds of places, but my favorite by far was Cañon City. Tears started to form in my ocean blue eyes.

Once upon a time, on a small town called Smallville, there was a boy named Ej. He was just a normal boy that went to school, hung out in his barn to think and looked on his telescope to look up at stars. One night outside of his house, he lays down on the wide open field with the grass swaying with the wind. He looks up to the stars and says to himself "What if I could make the world a better place?" Right after he says that, he sees a rapid, giant red ball coming down from the sky. He was too mesmerized to move. It came closer and closer to him until it finally hit him. Everything went black.