Personal Narrative: 9 A. M.

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

It started as typical Tuesday with a couple of court hearings, maybe an arrest, but nothing to exciting. That all changed at dawn.

It is December 03, 2005 and a typical Saturday morning where I was awakened by a restless night of sleep. I sat up in the bed, grabbed the remote to turn on the television, and then scanned my surroundings only to discover that I had become very familiar with the 4 walls of the room. You see, I was in a relationship (or so I thought) where I can honestly confess that I was not only lonely but I was also alone. I was in a relationship with a live in boyfriend whom rarely surfaced, well at least not when I was at home; his belongings where at my place, but very seldom was his presence made known. My thoughts concerning this so-called relationship begin to overwhelm me so I shifted gears and headed to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and washed my face before being led by hunger to the kitchen where I prepared a bowl of cereal, slice of toast, and a glass of orange juice.

The morning sun is peering through the small window in the corner of my room, hitting me right in the face; of all places in my room it hits on my pillow, my head, and my eyes. It’s another summer day like the rest nothing to do and at the age where I haven’t got my license yet. I get up from bed with the same chip on my shoulder that I went to bed with last night because my mom wouldn’t rent me a movie from the TV. To most people it seems dumb to get mad at but I was young and went to a school where every kid had money and everything they wanted, plus it didn’t help that I didn’t have a video game console. I was bored and I just wanted to see this new movie that I didn’t get to see in theaters cause my mother said we needed to be, “smart with

It is 7:09 am. Why is it 7:09 am? Not that I am asking at which degree or tilt or whatever universal force causes my body to endure 7:09 am. I am simply asking why am I writing at 7:09 am? In retrospect, I caused my own misfortune. Wait. No way I caused this. Was I the one that started a debate about educational theories at 11 pm? No, no I was not. He caused my misfortune. There I was, sitting down on the welcoming couch writing this paper. Ideas and thoughts were racing back and fourth through my vacillating mind. He just had to interrupt my beautiful process for another Huffington Post article. Now its 7:22 am. Why is it 7:22 am? Not that I am asking….stop. Yesterday’s misfortune is today’s opportunity, or something. Do your work.

Three am. Staring at the ceiling. I have to get up at 7 for school in the morning and I’m in no shape to do so. My whole body hurts from lack of rest this whole week, and yet I still can’t seem to just close my eyes and sleep. I scroll on my phone for bit and get an idea. I text my mom to see if she’s awake and head downstairs to start setting up the kitchen. I think I woke her up, but I’m not worried about it. In my household it’s always a good time for breakfast.

Clare would question me at least three times a day if I was going to drink when I turned eighteen. It was a daily routine for her at the time. The conversation would always go the same way:

Five AM strikes and my alarm screams, along with every fiber in my body to not get out of that semi comfortable bed. Anything is comfortable when you're waking up at five AM though. I roll over to my side and prop myself up at the end of the bed. Ethan my kiwi roommate's alarm is going off in succession with my alarm. We look at each other and silently give each other the same look. breaking the silence i ask him what i know he's about to ask me, “Do you really want to go through with this. Five AM is way too early to be up.” He respond with, “Yeah it sucks getting up this early, but trust me it will all be worth it.” We stumble out of our small bedroom with 2 bunk beds in it. Both bunks are only filled with two occupants. Technically our room

It was a normal Saturday evening get together with my extended family and close family friends enjoying each other’s company. There was a large selection of barbeque, sides, and drinks. We were all enjoying ourselves playing 31. I am only sixteen at the time and was privileged to be able to take part on the adult festivities. The card game is fairly simple, you are dealt three cards and the objective of the game is to be the closest to 31. In my family, we have a $1.50 buy in to the game and to continuing playing the game you must pay 50 cents for each additional games lost.

It reminded me of home. My mother was always baking. The scent was practically ingrained in her clothes, giving off a soft, sweet scent. The fragrance embraced you, took over your soul.

I push open the door to the store. The bell jingles, announcing my arrival. I scan the store and that's when I see him. I stop short. He's the one. I can feel the connection between us coursing through the air. He's goofing off with a few of his friends. He doesn't notice me yet, but I sure notice him. I could watch him for hours. How could I not; he's absolutely gorgeous! I could never resist the silly, playful ones. He saunters away from his friends and trips over a stray ball lying on the floor. I laugh. It appears that he has not quite grown into his feet yet. He looks up, and his big, beautiful, brown eyes meet my blue ones. His mouth opens into a big, happy smile. I can't help but to smile back. And his hair, I could run my hands through

The date was October 8, 2014, 2 days after my birthday. One of the realest quotes I heard was “Don’t trust a soul” and i should have listened. It started out as any other day, mom was mad me for one reason or another, dad was sitting on the couch like always playing the “Call of Duty”. I was a Saturday so of course I tried to sleep in but my dad love playing his game with the sound on high it really out under my skin. Think about it you 're sleeping in your bed and all of a sudden you hear “POW! POW! POW!” you’re going to get pretty irritated but i was use to it. Anyways my dad had no job and if you saw him he was either over his friends house, sleep, arguing with my mom or smoking stuff I shouldn 't say right now. My

“You should never regret anything in life. If it's good, it’s wonderful. If it’s bad it’s experience” by Olivia Holt. In that being said I try to live my life day by day not letting other people or other things stop me from being who I want to be. Sometimes I forget that quote and let things get in the way of my happiness or get in the way of what I want. I have to remind myself and move on from the bad things that have happened. I chose to believe that bad things that take place in my life is teaching me and shaping me to become a better person. I like to believe that some people are blessings and others are lessons and that no matter what happens life goes on.

    One event from my life that I always remember is when I was first starting school. I was wearing a Bright Blue Basketball Shirt and a pair of Bright Blue Basketball Shorts. I woke up very early that day. When my sisters finally woke up they got ready and we went outside to wait for the bus. When the bus came my mom wanted to get pictures of us. So when we arrived at school I went to class. I was extremely nervous but when my teacher told us her name I laughed. She told us her name was Miss.Wiederman and that made the entire class giggle. When it came lunch time I didn’t know where to sit. So when my sisters came in they told me to sit with them. That is one good memory that I have with my family. Another is when I

Glancing at myself in the mirror, I didn’t think I would ever regret anything. But that was back then. Back when I was happy with my life the way it was. Back when I wouldn’t have changed a thing. In retrospect, I realize my logic was flawed. I do have regrets. After all, I am human.