Personal Narrative

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

“Please sir, worry about yourself for once! We need to get you to a hospital, fast.” I could still feel tears trickling down my face.

From my earliest years, I remember growing up in a highly political and partisan household. When I was younger, politics was merely background noise and a topic of debate. However, as I became older, politics became the lense through which I day dreamed about abolishing sexism, racism, and poverty. My families high involvement with politics not only made both my siblings and I politically active, but also propelled me into a career in political science.

“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

February 4, 2007 was a day of celebration for my whole family. That day my family gathered around in the living room and cheered on the Colts to victory in the Super Bowl. This day was the anticipated highpoint of my school conversations for the past week. My dad was in his leather chair drinking his favorite Raspberry Snapple Tea. My mom, siblings and I were crowded around on leather couches in our living room. We were all close in age. I was ten years old in fourth grade, my sister was eleven in fifth grade, and my brother was thirteen in sixth grade. I didn’t understand football that much as a fourth grader, but I always looked forward to the Super Bowl commercials. I still remember one of the commercials that affected me the most. In the

Everything that has a beginning has an ending, never have I thought to myself that my ending would be losing the family I grew up with for over 20 years. The car accident which took all their lives will forever be encrypted in my memory until the day I take my last breath on this world. I warned my father it would be dangerous to take the entire family upstate in a van but he just yelled at me. That's something I never appreciated about my father, having a different opinion than him would just lead to him yelling at me and starting a massive argument. I called him a bastard and left him with the rest of the family. That was the last thing I said to my father, now I lie here, organizing the entirety of their funeral at my expense and leaving

Everyone is gone, but not me, I was stuck in the rumble of the torn apart city. Were filled around me are hurt souls and blood. Quite frankly, I don't even think there is anyone left. The loud noises hurt My ears, the sight of what I hope isn't blood is stinging my eyes, and the thought of what truly happened melts my brain. I couldn't move my head hurt so much and my legs were stuck under something I couldn't call for help because when I did all I heard were screams of the people in the city. Out of nowhere, I heard noises, not human noises, but something was definitely coming close I couldn't talk or yell for help so just cried so loud even Nevada could hear me. Finally, someones digging me out, but before I get a glimpse of them There goes

It was in my home that beautiful blue morning that I realized it was my birthday and I wanted to go someplace for my birthday, I called my friends over to discuss the places we should go so after a few minutes my friends showed up to my house to chill and talk about where we wanted to go for my birthday. So my friends and I sat around talking a putting out ideas of different places and we finally decided to go to Myrtle Beach, SC. For my birthday I was extremely hyped to go, as I was getting a few things ready I noticed my phone was glowing and vibrating. I saw a notification from my bank I opened the app and saw I had gotten paid from my job I ended up with $550 I got excited and knew that day was

Life is a little too short. For some life is too short because they are having excessive fun, they are constantly busy, or they are a bunch of both. People’s emotions and personalities change within the seasons. During the winter they are sad and sleepy. Throughout the spring they are cheerful and bright-eyed. Occasionally, in the summer they are crabby yet lustful. And in the season that brings us all together as family and friends, known as autumn and sometimes fall, the adults are dreading work, the teenagers are adventurous, and the children are playful. Behind these emotions and personalities lye the truth. The truth behind the fake smiles, the unforgotten broken hearts, and the worn out brains from trying to manage one event in their

I apologize in advance for peeking at your computer screen, but I know the cause of Alice’s spontaneous birthday. Your most recent friend was celebrating her birthday today, without you. It looked like fun and I’m sorry you had to see that. You mailed her an exquisite boutique and she didn’t even invite you or reply.

“Oh, I know,” she said. She looked at me, I looked at her. “Barbie dolls,” we said at the same time.

“Rima, honey, hurry up or you'll be late for school." my father called down the stairs, trying to make it seem like he still cares.

“Ma’am, the last that I’ve heard, your husband is awake and stable at the hospital, he is going to be fine.

“Can you just shut up?”, my grandmother shouted. It was only seven in the morning and already I had been getting on people's nerves. My brother sat at the table quietly, blinking away sleep from his eyes. The kitchen was filled with the smell of burnt porridge and my grandmother cursed out loud as she mixed the milky substance. “If you hadn't distracted me, it wouldn’t have turned out this way.”, she said as she glared at me and scooped the burnt parts onto my plate. I had lost my appetite and, as soon as she left the room, threw out the porridge. I knew my brother wouldn't tell, we had an understanding. We were the reason for the cockroaches crawling around our shabby apartment, the sole creators of a nightmare behind the kitchen booth we

It’s all a blur really – the memories that is, some dreams and others reality. I hate that dreams seem so real, that they make everything that you truly want happen. Then, when you wake up, you still think it’s real because you felt everything in that dream and all its emotions. And in that moment, that blink of an eye you have to deal with the nagging in your brain telling you it’s not real. My memories consisted of misguided mistakes that made me who I am today. Like the day I got lost in the mall and hung out in the book store because it was quiet. And the days where my dad and me would sit in the living room and listen to music. My mom would always laugh at me and tell us how lame we were, but it was okay because we knew she was joking.