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.

It was near the end of my 8th grade school year, about 2 month away from graduation, when something I never expected to happen actually happened. This event really changed my life forever and shaped me into who I am as a person today. I had just arrived at my house after school when my parents received a call that my grandma was ill and that we should come down to check on her. As we rushed down to my grandparents house, my family was deeply concerned about what may have happened because my grandma had never really had many health issues before this. As we arrived at their house and walked through the door, we were greeted with the sight of my grandma sitting in a chair with a blanket around her while she was sleeping. My family’s first reaction

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

One of two. That's how I feel everyday of my life. I'm a twin and that means I will never be complete without my other half. When I was younger, I learned that having a twin does not keep me from things. It's getting to have a person in my life that I don't need to hide from, other than in hide and seek. When I was little, my brother probably hated me as much as I hated him. But we were together all the time. We went to school together, we were in the same class almost all the time. Sometimes, we had the same friends even. We shared birthday parties, cakes, presents, money. Basically the same things we still share now. But between us, we shared secrets. Little things that we thought were so cool. When my grandma gave us money, we split it and made sure not to tell our parents. I went and bought

I caused Greg to break his hand without any remorse at the time. Greg was a high school acquaintance who tended to bully me. He was significantly taller, stronger and more athletic; therefore physically bullying me wasn’t much effort for him. When I heard he was coming to work at the warehouse, I wasn’t particularly happy about it. The warehouse contained boxes from multiple suppliers. Some were really thick and some were really thin. They all contained books, though some were heavy text books while others were light weight paper backs. All workers with experience knew which boxes were heavy, which had thick soft cardboard as a box, and which were encased in thin cardboard. I waited until Greg stopped by with his working partner for

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?

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

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.

It was a cold autumn morning when I heard the news coming from my alarm clock radio. Two people had won the lottery winnings from yesterday's drawing. They get to split a great prize, both people got to take home over 3 million dollars. I have been playing the lottery for about ten years now, I have only won three or four thousand, hoping to hit it big. For eight years I have been cleaning and cooking in a half kitchen with dinette. The small apartment had that smell as if something had been wet and moldy. I have had to listen through paper thin walls of, shouting, fighting, and the occasional grunts from some dirty old man upstairs. The constant running trains echo inside the entire apartment building. The living room was just big enough for

“So, uh, you’re not going to believe this.” These are the words I hear upon answering my phone. My friend continues, “I just dropped off my wife at work, and well, one tire is facing straight and the other one is not.” I get dizzy and my face lights up red as I hear the description of my car. My friend continues to stammer as he tries to explain what happened, but I don’t listen to any of it. I know that I’m getting the bill no matter what happened. “Well, have it towed to a shop.” I say, most likely interrupting his continued jabbering. “Call me when it’s there and I’ll take care of it.” This was not the first, or last, time that I had to make sure an unplanned event could be taken care of out of my pocket. In most people's lives there will

Sydney had been sitting on the porch for twenty minutes when Steven pulled up. Steven walked up on the porch looking confused. “Is everything alright?”

That morning had begun just like any other, or so I believed. It was a cold winter morning, a school day, and I was 14 years old, getting up to get ready for school. It was while I went about my routine that I realized my parents were nowhere to be found. I was immediately concerned and searched the entire house for them before frantically running to our neighbors and beating on the door, desperate for an answer. When I managed to explain that my parents were gone he told me to come along in his car. Concerned, and fearing what was about to happen, I went with him, feeling even more frantic when I realized we had arrived at the hospital.

A rainy Saturday filled with a bit of cleaning, a lot of work and a constant rain, the hubs and I found ourselves with a hankering for burgers. Of course downtown has options, but we also wanted to get home just in case the downpour decided to continue. One never knows in Michigan after all.

I was scared. No, I was more than scared. Terrified maybe. As I looked out the window in my two bedroom house, I could see a van in my driveway. It was completely dark, I was supposed to be sleeping, but of course, I was not. My mom was at work. I started pacing around, thinking of what my mother said to do if there ever was an intruder. However, I still couldn’t remember, I guess I was too busy with my pacing.

This is a story how my life changed dramatically at the age of fifteen. It all started On February 16, 2006, in a small country called Guyana. It was a rainy day, when all of a sudden I heard a loud knock on the door bang! Bang! It was the mailman with a package for my mom; in the package had a letter with my name on it. Mother yelled “come here nekita read this for me” As I opened the letter, I was a bit curious as to what might be inside, so I began to read when I said “oh my god mom it’s from the embassy” suddenly there were a scared look on my mother’s face. “She said continue reading Nekita” the letter said I had an appointment to go into the embassy to collect my visa to come live with my dad and there were a few things we needing to