Personal Narrative

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

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.

I love living in a small town, it gives me a sense of guaranteed safety and simplicity.

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.

Tuesday, March 6th, 2018 at approximately 4:30 p.m., I Detective L. Donegain was contacted by Sergeant P. Orellano in-reference to a possible overdose at 415 Tradewinds Drive apartment B, Fayetteville, North Carolina 28304. I was advised Patrol Officers were on scene and standing by.

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

It was a cold day in November as I scampered out of my Biology class, unsatisfied with the grade that I had received on my exam. I rushed to the basement of my campus’s athletic facility brimming over with frustration and quickly tossed aside my school supplies in exchange for a pair of soccer cleats and goalkeeper gloves. I threw over my grass-stained gray cotton sweatshirt, stepped outside to the bite of an approaching winter and joined my comrades in our warm-up lines. The boys were all laughing and talking about what happened over the weekend as we prepared for another practice. Being surrounded by my teammates made me forget about my worries and allowed me to disappear into the routine of physical activity. My collegiate varsity soccer

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

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.

It was a sunny bright Friday afternoon and I was at school. I knew today was going to be the day, the day I get my new bike. After school my dad picked me up and drove home, so I can change out of my uniform and grab something to eat. I remembered my stomach feeling strange, I was so excited getting my new bike that I couldn't even eat. We went back in the car to go to Kmart. Even though Kmart was only like five minutes, it felt like I was in the car forever. I remember I was thinking of all the features my new bike was going to have.

About two years ago, my husband, my two sons and I lived in a small village, where we had our own farm that we took care of. My husband was a farmer, and we provided food that was sold to gain money. Our farm was prospering, and it did not seem like anything bad would happen. We spoke too soon. It was a tragic day; our crops wilted and died due to the dry, hot climate. With the loss of our crops, we could not make profit, so we did not have enough money to pay for our farm. In the end we lost everything. Luckily, we had enough money to rent land. This certainly was not the life I wanted for my family.

Random zombie apocalypse at my school? Not really surprising considering the food that's served at lunch. First things first, as soon as I figured out about the zombies roaming the halls I would find some form of protection. I am assuming there are no ways to leave the school so I would make my way to our world history/ancient artifacts classroom where there are older weapons are kept. Yes, I would be using priceless historical items, but then again I want to live. The next two things I would be worried about are food, and a safe place to hide. I would make my way up to the library where there are very heavy doors that I even have trouble opening at times, and I’m not even a zombie. On top of that the doors lock which pretty much make it impossible

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?

Racing at night going One-hundred and forty miles an hour on US-27 holding the lead, Shift six gear, speed topped out at two-hundred miles per hour passing by cars smoothly. I chanted I am immortal, I am a god! while I pushed my sports bike to its limit. Suddenly a black car approaches. WHAM! I get Rammed from behind and lose control of my bike slamming into a Semi-truck up ahead. Lights out. When I peeked my eyes, I saw 4 humans around me. Thump after thumb I believe I was in an ambulance rushing down the turnpike. I looked around and the first words that came to my head are “Rick this is just a dream”. This is the story of how I escaped from an illegal laboratory that clones and modifies humans.