Personal Narrative

The allure of fear is interesting for some people for several reasons. These people have another perspective of how they react when they see something scary or read it. They don’t react the same way as other people that don’t like scary things. Other people like to be scared. Some people motivate others by saying to them they are not so scary and everything that is happening there is not real, since they use fiction elements, like characters, details and scenarios. These scary elements have real details but also have scenarios that are not real, this means it is magical realism. This thought of liking scary things is a physiological problem. Scientist make an article showing proof that there is a big pole of people that like scary scenarios.

Mexico is the eleventh most populated country in the world with a $2.2 trillion economy (CIA, 2017). It is also an extremely popular tourist destination for Americans and Europeans alike. Moreover, its people have had the highest average annual hours worked in the world every year for the last three years (OECD, 2017). Despite this, their unemployment rate is estimated to be 3.6% and their underemployment at 25% (CIA, 2017). I am going to expand on this country’s issues with corruption, organized crime, violence, the economy, and how I assess their future will affects us here in the United States.

In human nature there exists a morbid desire to explore the darker realms of life. As sensitive beings we make every effort to deny our curiosity in the things that frighten us, and will calmly reassure our children that there aren't any creatures under their beds each night, but deep down we secretly thrive on that cool rush of fear. Despite our efforts to maintain a balance of respectable emotions, we are a society of people who slow down to look at traffic accidents and find excitement in the macabre. We turn off the lights when watching scary movies, and when it's time to go to bed, we secretly make sure the closet doors are shut. Fear keeps our hearts pumping and endorphins rushing, for it is an emotion that reminds us of our

The scary stories that we read adhere to what the article suggests about why people like to be scared by giving us a adrenaline rush, which some people like to have. In the short story Lamb to the Slaughter by Roald Dahl, the story gives us a huge adrenaline rush when the women slams the lamb leg on her husband's head. In the text the author states “ At that point, Mary Maloney simply walked up behind him without any pause, she swung the big frozen leg of the lamb high in the air and brought it down as hard as she could on the back of his head.”. This part in the story gives us a huge adrenaline rush by just

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

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

I wish I could tell you all of this in person but I know if I try I’ll probably get very nervous and forget some small details that I would really like to tell you, and those are probably the most important to me. I saw you for the first time on February 23 at the valentines party, and that was such a fortunate thing to go to because I was able to get free food, have a good time, see old friends I haven’t seen since last semester, but most importantly I was able to see you. I didn’t know who you were at the time, but I knew you were like a very sweet, funny, caring, smart, and very beautiful just from your appearance. I first noticed you when you sat across from me when we were playing charades, and that’s when I knew that I wanted to get to

If you were to ask me why I love running the hurdles you would probably expect to hear this long story about this life changing event that happened to me which made me love running, but that’s not the case. In high school I was on the shuttle hurdle team, I wasn’t the best nor the worst, but I was the most motivated. Everyday I went to practice and pushed myself to the point were my coach would make me stop. I wasn’t motivated to be the best nor to win every race. I was motivated by the thought of going to state or even winning state.

I am a rather complex individual, but one quality that stands out about me is that I am very passionate. While I am passionate about many subjects, I have great passionate for a select few. First, I am very passionate about entertainment. For as long as I can remember I have always adored television shows, movies, and books. As soon as school let out I would rush home to watch Thundercats with my oldest brother, Mark. During my school vacation, I would spend my time reading. Therefore, my mother said it was hard to keep up with purchasing books for me to read. When my family went to the mall they knew I could always be found in the book store. Finally, I am passionate about Comic Conventions. My oldest brother introduced me to a convention

At the sudden ringing of the school bell, Yuyuki quietly stood up with the rest of her class and faced the front of the classroom and bowed, following the teacher's example. She stuffed the test paper she was handed back into her book bag and prepared to leave when a couple of her classmates tapped her on the way out.

It was eight am, a warm summer day, when I woke up as my alarm rang. Not even tired, I stood up and walked over to the bathroom. I stepped in the shower and turned it on, that the warm water ran down my skin and let me shiver. I washed my body and my hair, and ten minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror and watched myself, while I thought, that today would be a wonderful day. So I brushed my teeth and put perfectly make-up on, before I went to the bedroom again. I grabbed some pants and a shirt and dressed me up. After that, I took my small, black hair brush and went through my thick, dark brown hair, that ends underneath my breasts.

It was a bitter autumn day in upper town New York and on top of Times Tower, perched a girl her long auburn hair was dancing like the shadows of trees in the dusk of a windy day. She sat inhaling the thick, grey smoke from her cigarette, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her thick black eyeliner was smudged, but even that could not disguise the wisdom she hid behind her eyes. Deep in the pockets of her long, black trench coat her phone started to ring. She snatched out the phone, glanced at the screen and groaned. She knew it would be the same call she had received every school day at 6:30, for the past 10 months.

Do you how it feels to be cheated on when you were madly in love with that person? There was a girl named Dominique Carter. She was in love with a boy named Dominic. She knew how it feels and she wanted revenge to those that hurt her, so they could share the pain she felt. Dominique was plotting revenge, and she knew just how to do it. She was hurt because her own ‘boyfriend’ and ‘best friend’ betrayed her.

All human beings come into the world with a desire to speak; babies babble from the moment they are born, and in time, idle coos evolve into coherent words. Speech is, no doubt, a cornerstone of human society, but some humans are less inclined towards speaking than others. I am a prime example of the latter case. Growing up a wide-eyed girl with frizzy blonde hair, I was much quieter than my eccentric outer appearance led most people to believe. Biting my tongue before I knew how to speak, and sitting on my hands before I knew how to write, my childhood was a vicious cycle of sitting down, shutting up, and hanging low my frizzy blonde head. For so long I believed myself doomed to live the rest of my life in this painfully shy manner. That is, until, I met my voice teacher one year ago.

It was a beautiful spring day with the sun shining, birds chirping and the smell of flowers wafting through the open windows. How was I to know that this beautiful day was going to take a drastic turn? As my husband of ten years stepped out of the shower, doubt hung in the air like a curtain of smog making it difficult to breathe. It was at this moment that he clued me in on his secret of infidelity. As I struggled to understand, it felt like my world was collapsing around me like the buildings at a planned demolition.