Personal Narrative

The sparks fly in the air, there are marshmallows in your hair, and you’re with your favorite people in the world. This is called the best place on earth, for me at least. I enjoy camping so very much, you meet new people, experience different things, make new memories, and have a blast. You also see new sights, smell some things, and always wake up to the birds singing and not the bustling streets of the city. Camping is my go to activity.

In the beginning of third grade was so exciting because I will get to see my friends. But when I got home my parents told me and my brother that we are moving. I was really excited at first because it was my first time moving.

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.

Spring rolled around and it was finally time for the first t-ball game of the season. The dandelions were sprouting and the bees were buzzing in the outfield. All twelve players showed up but only half of the team was there to play ball. It was hard to expect six-year olds to have much of an attention span anyway. The ball was hit and began to roll for the outfield. At this very moment the team of twelve became divided. This division separated the team players from the self-servers. Little did I know that my first time on the field would mark the beginning of something so big and influential in my life.

This post was probably my worst semester of college and I have no excuse for how things turned out with my classes. I'm not going to blame my job or my home life as it was me who failed and I have no one else to point the finger at. I had tried to pass the remedial math course five times previously and I started to lose hope that this one course would hold me back from finishing school. This hopelessness carried into my other courses because at the time I truly believed it was pointless to try in other courses if I can't pass this class that's been haunting since I started attending college.

It was a normal chilly sunday on September 13th, 2015. My dad was in the garage with some of his friends watching the football game. It was the Dallas Cowboys vs. the New York Giants. My dad and his friends were making hot dogs and burgers on the grill but I don’t like those so I asked my dad if I could go to the store and get the ingredients to make taco dip. He handed me $20 and I headed off to the store with one of my dad’s friend’s son. The store was at the end of my street so it wasn’t a far walk.

My eyes fluttered open and I found myself there again. I always find myself in the same place, stuck in the exact moment of time when it all happened. I struggled to get a hold of myself. Is this a memory or am I still in Afghanistan?

It was 2:00 AM and I was working 3rd shift that night, it was lonely and dark. I was the only one here. As I sat in silence the phone rang I picked it up not expecting anyone to be calling because I haven’t had a call in years. When I picked up the phone all I hear is a deep soft whispering, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Every second the whispering got louder and louder until there was a high pitch screaming. I slammed the phone down on the receiver with a rush of adrenaline. My heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was going to burst, (the reader takes a deep breath to build suspense) agin I sit in silence, waiting for something to happen. I was so paranoid I didn’t know what to do, my mind was racing, do I leave or do I

One Saturday morning I woke up to go hinting as usual every weekend. I climbed out of my bed with a good night’s sleep and got dressed. I made my way to the living room to drink some coffee with my daddy. It was in December so it was pretty cold outside. I sat around for a few minutes talking to daddy and watching the news on TV. We were arguing on who was going to hunt the “creek stand” as we call it. It’s a old box stand down a really long over grown trail that has been in the family for a long time. It is located in the wood yard hunting club in Angie, LA, my hometown. We finally got finished arguing and he said I could hunt the “creek stand”. So I went to my room and grabbed my Remington model 770 .270 caliber rifle with a 80mm Nikon scope,

I sat down with my boy on the recliner he hopped up as I read the paper back to him. This seemed Like a cozy get up for a boy to grow up in, but as I began to read my mind was adrift into other things. I had to split sometime soon but I couldn’t help think “what awaits me there?” I thought of a time when I lived in the city, New Orleans. Late one night while I was a private dick I lit my cigarette and began listening to the smooth jazz of the night. The cool wind of the night brushed my face and wavered my smoke as I pulled my hat down I noticed some grifter out of the corner of my eye. I kept walking. The sly grifter moved along the shadows.

my studies. It was there that I would max out my library card to read

I grab the handle on the door frame, and pull my five foot self up into the driver's seat. Leaving the door open, I turn the key in the ignition. Doesn't start. "Try again." Daryl hooks his hand around the top of the door. I nod and twist the key forward again. This time it clicks for a few seconds, then starts right up. The purring of the engine enlightened the mood a bit. Tara jogs over to Rick. "The van works." "We have our transportation." Rick nods before signaling the rest over. "Want to get out of the city before dark, we'll find a spot in the woods to settle for the night and go from there." I made sure I was in the same car as Daryl, even if it meant not being in the same as Carl, but I need to comfort one of the biggest father figures

My pursuit of Kelly began almost a year before we met. I was at one of my best friends Ryan's house and I noticed Kelly's picture was on their wall. Immediately I asked Ryan's girfirend, Rugila aka Roo, every question she would tolerate to answer.

There isn’t a day in my life that I wake up and do not ask myself, “Why?” Why did my mother have to leave? Why did this happen to me? Without a doubt, the absence of my mother is the hardest obstacle I have had to overcome. My parents were young and unsure how to raise a child on their own. My mom really believed she could not do it, so she left when I was eight months old. At that age, a mother to an infant is everything, yet she was not there. I grew up not knowing the love of a mother, but learned to be independent. I did not have someone to guide me through childhood because my dad was too busy working in order to provide for us, and his family had kids of their own to worry about. Though his family loved us, they favored their own children over me and my sister. We had to do everything around the house while they did nothing. We felt as if we had no voice and no one to support us. Being in this situation made me into

It was a sunny summer day. We just got finished with a movie and just finished getting chairs at menards. We were on our way back to our condo up north about 30 minutes away from the dells, I was only with my mom and brother and he was about 4 and I was 10 years old. It was probably the most scariest thing in my life at that time and it was my first time getting in a car accident.