Personal Narrative

The flame from Nick's lighter danced in the darkness as he lit his cigarette. I faintly heard an aged man speak from the television "2 found dead in New York apartment..." I turned my attention towards the TV out of curiosity. "Autopsy shows the couple died of starvation, this is now the tenth time we have seen this similar situation..." Nick cleared his throat to speak, a puff of smoke escaped his lips and disappeared into the darkness of the room. I shifted my gaze towards him awaiting his thought. He spoke in a tired voice.

In San Francisco, about a year after my mother died, when I was nine or ten years old and going to the second new school since moving in with my father, I had a desperate crush on a girl named Lisa. She was a year older than me, in the next grade level up (our classrooms were combined). She was pretty, Asian, was popular with a group of friends that would surround her during recesses.

The sand is cold, the sky overcast, and the waves crash against the shore echoing harshly through my ears. I see clouds rolling overhead, I can smell the salt of the ocean, feel the texture of the sand, taste the electricity on the air and it all points to the coming storm. Is it real? Can anything be real when seen through someone else's eyes, felt through someone else's skin, tasted through someone else's tongue, Breathed through someone else's nose, heard through someone else's ears? This is what the world looked like to her, felt like to her, but what did it look like to me, feel to me? Was there ever a me or only this continually changing sculpture, patterns of a person and nothing more. I shivered as the cold air caressed the flesh I wore.

Everyone remembers a time in their lives when their mom came through and saved the day. Mine happened to happen at 1:30 AM on a Saturday morning. To fully understand the story I’ll give some background.

My family is full of musicians. My parents and my grandfather all play in the same wind band, in which my great grandfather used to play as well, so it was assumed that I continue the tradition. For a long time I thought that wind music is old-fashioned and certainly not ”cool” enough. I dreamt of becoming a famous singer making cheerful pop music. I’ve changed a lot since then.

My family has always taught me to be independent and stand on my own. Being a truck driver, my dad was always a loner. He liked being to himself on the open road. I remember the trips we used to go on together and how much fun it was being on the road. However, my mom didn’t like these long extended trips. She set off to be independent, and advised me to never depend on anybody for satisfaction. She always told me that I only needed to God to be fulfilled. My parents eventually grew apart, and left me with the understanding that I don’t need anyone else.

Watching the rollercoaster go down the enormous hill my legs shake like a earthquake. I am having nightmares in my mind already.

I barely slept, ate on the run, and by the time the week drew to a close, I had accumulated close to twenty thousand dollars due to perseverance, and resiliency. Also, with Tyche on my side, I was able to rent an economical two bedroom apartment with plenty of sunlight, four blocks from ‘Ink it Baby’, and secured a job waiting tables at Harry’s Diner, two blocks from my abode.

I had two individuals review my resume from the view of a merchandising and retail field. The first person that reviewed my resume was Tara Derricott. Tara Derricott is the Assistant Trade Book and Gift Buyer at the BYU-Idaho University Store. Her biggest suggestion to me was to add a “skills” section to my resume. She told me that when she helps with interviews and reads students’ resumes, she likes to see a skills section. This is because it helps her see if their personality and abilities work with the company. She also commented that she really appreciated that I kept it to one page. In order to keep it to one page I had to eliminate one of my experiences, which also fixed my experiences to be in chronological order. The last suggestion she gave to me was to change the font of my name to the font of the rest of my resume. Tara Derricott counseled that more than one font and any color on a resume is too distracting for an employer.

I looked at the school clock; it read 2:59. I was chanted in my head come on come on. For a whole minute I couldn't hear anything the teacher said, just the ticking of the clock. And there it was. Ding! Ding! Ding! The school bells rang, I quickly got out of my chair and nearly knocked everyone in my path. Everyone ran, it was thanksgiving eve! Everybody can't wait to go home and prepare a feast.

I overheard my owner that I am having visitors from Texas coming. I hope they have warm clothes on because it is sunny with a lot of snow here in Minnesota. I think they are coming here for my birthday, I turned 8 today. “BAM!” I think that was a car door. They are here!! “What's his name?” I heard someone ask. It was a little girl, she has blonde hair. “ His name is Teddy.” my owner said as she opened the door to my stable. My owner starts to saddle me up. I thought it was a birthday party not ride time. She takes me out to the indoor field. The little girl gets on me and my owner pulls me around the field. I think she is teaching the little kids how to rid a horse.The little girl was first she had to use a step stool to get on me because I am a big horse. I heard the little girl say “I am so glad it is winter break.” After the little girl got off she started to pet me. “I love his black spots with his white fur.” I start to walk around and a lot of wind comes in and it is really cold.

We are making our way up to the first drop. I am the only one on the ride who is screaming, and everyone else is laughing. The roller coaster is so fast, I don’t notice it when we make it to the top of the drop, but when we’re going down, I freak out. I start screaming even louder than before - if that’s even possible. I close my eyes so tight, it feels like they are going to pop. I don’t want to see what was coming next. I’m already terrified from the first drop, but the drops keep on coming. Drop, after the drop, after the drop. I feel worse after every single drop. We keep getting tiny jerks after every turn. I feel a little sick, but then I ignore it.

My brother, Richie, and I were about twenty minutes from riding Mystic Timbers. I was as excited as ever. I had been waiting for what seems like an eternity, but I never stepped out of line. For how excited I was I still had a bit of doubt tiptoeing inside me wondering if this ride was going to truly be worth it. My brother had ridden this ride before with some of his friends and loved it. He told me that it was his favorite ride, yet I still wondered if the hours I had to wait

It was seven thirty when I met up with my friends Julia, Litzy and Edward in the parking lot. There I stood looking up at rides towering over us. We walked around until we found a ticket booth that didn’t have a line that was as long as the carnival itself. We each bought a wristband that allowed us to ride any ride we wanted for an unlimited amount of times. Litzy, suggested we start off by riding the bumper cars, we all agreed happily and awaited our turn. The line was small, but long enough for us to conversate and discuss what rides we would get on next. Of course, the ride I feared the most, The Fireball, was the ride everyone wanted get on next. Hesitantly, I suggested we tour the smaller rides first and work our way up. This was my plan to stall as much as possible. Thankfully, everyone thought it was a great idea.

My first wrong choice was when I stepped out the front door on my way to the party, deliberately disobeying my parents. The second was getting myself drunk. And the third will live in infamy in my mind for all eternity; I drove while intoxicated. But I’m a teenager right? I’m invincible? Wrong. Things can go wrong, and they did. They went very wrong. That night, 2 people were killed by my hand and 4 more were sent into the hospital with life changing injuries, all because of my “nothing can touch me” attitude and ignorant decisions. I was consumed by a selfish hunt for the “full high school experience,” and didn’t stop to think about what I was really doing to myself, my sanity, and to the people all around me. Just how terrible did my decisions turn out that night? Unfortunately, I’m not the only one behaving so foolishly. While many young adults during the times of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet often got caught in the moment without looking forward, unfortunately a large number of teenagers today still struggle to think of the consequences and impacts of their actions.