Personal Narrative : A Childish Brawl

In the beginning of third grade was so exciting because I will get to see my friends. But when I got home my parents told me and my brother that we are moving. I was really excited at first because it was my first time moving.

I was born in Chihuahua, Chihuahua, Mexico. Although you may assume that I possess a lot of traits of a stereotypical “Latina” I do not. I wasn't raised in a big family. It was just my parents, my younger brother, and me. I was raised by an engineer and an economist both of whom have always encouraged the idea of creativity, curiosity, and innovation. Traveling is big part of my life, and helped shape me at a very early age. Along with traveling came moving to the United States, which made it hard not to reflect on identity and heritage.

Standing in the doorway, palms sweating, heart pounding, and breathing heavy. It was my first day of fifth grade, as I walked through the doors my vision blurred and the noise was all muffled. I was so nervous. The thoughts going through my head were, “Who is going to be in my class?” “Am I going to make friends?” “Who am I going to sit by at lunch?” These thoughts have been with me throughout middle school and high school.

my studies. It was there that I would max out my library card to read

My alarm shrieks piercingly through the air, and my eyelids fly open. I carelessly toss my covers aside, and begin my morning routine. Five minutes before my bus arrives I begin to rush out of the house. “Don’t forget I’m picking you up at school early today so we can go to Miami,” my mom reminds me on my way out. “Sure, okay,” I toss back at her and close the door. Just like any other school day, I traveled the day with laughs, semi focusing in classes, and other teenage fanatics. Like in most high schools, when inside the school walls there is this false sense of security that overcomes each student. Most believe that nothing can hurt them, and that nothing will happen. Failing to realize that no one is invincible and things can change at the blink of an eye. As the day proceeds, I approach my least favorite class, Biology. There was never a day that I didn’t complain about how much I hated that class and how I could not wait to leave. But today was different; It wasn’t as dreadful because this would be the period that my mom would pick me up. Fifteen minutes later, I was back to my old ways, whispering “I cannot wait to get out of here!” to my neighbor who felt the same way I did. Finally, I heard over the loud speaker: “Roshonda Bissainthe to the office” and a smile creeped across my

The sky melted from a clear blue to creamsicle orange and pinks to a dark, starry navy. I could see the sun’s transition really well inside the little glass diner I worked at, Cosmo’s. The ceiling and walls were constructed entirely of glass, and blue lights made up the floor, giving the small diner a cold, lonely feeling. The booths were silver with pastel blue cushions, the tables silver with shimmery blue tablecloths, pressed under glass. The bar table, that enveloped me, silver with blue lights underneath the glass top, accompanied by tall, blue faux leather bar stools.

I was on my way home from work the other day when I passed someone walking on the highway. It was raining and dark, so I turned around to see if he needed a ride. The stranger at first said no, but I kept on persisting and eventually he hopped in.

Have you ever got into an argument with your parents? We have come across where we experience a conflict. By submitting this assignment I acknowledge that this work is completely my own. My dad, boyfriend, and myself came upon a conflict on a typical day. By the end of this, you'll be able to know the background, theoretical groundings, analysis, recommendations, and reflections.

My family has always taught me to be independent and stand on my own. Being a truck driver, my dad was always a loner. He liked being to himself on the open road. I remember the trips we used to go on together and how much fun it was being on the road. However, my mom didn’t like these long extended trips. She set off to be independent, and advised me to never depend on anybody for satisfaction. She always told me that I only needed to God to be fulfilled. My parents eventually grew apart, and left me with the understanding that I don’t need anyone else.

I built a Battering Ram. Battering Rams were used for breaking down gates and bridges in medieval castles and cities. I made this Battering Ram with wood, glue,paper, and string. I got these materials by go to wal-mart and buy the stuff I need. I set out the big piece paper on my table and drew out the battering ram. Then I took the wood and placed it to were I thought it would look good, And put the wood glue on the wood was. Then I took a big piece of wood and drew a circle on it. I did this 4 times. Then I took and thin piece of wood and glued it on the bottom of the Battering Ram. I did this 2 times. 1 in the front 1 on the back. Then we took the wheels that we made earlier and glue them to the thin sticks, 2 on

Playing Defense is a young adult romance. It’s sweet, innocent and lots of fun. Sixteen year old Claudia was a teen who only had her eyes on her future, until she met one of the most popular guy in school. Hockey player Chris, he was gorgeous, kind, a prankster and interested in her. When Claudia was given the duty of being Chris’s tutor, their quick friendship came out of nowwhere. For once in Claudia’s life she was not just looking forward to her future school, she was looking forward on her day and seeing Chris again. The connection happened fast and Chris gave Claudia her first real kiss. It was sweet, it was intense. I loved it. Innocent Claudia wanted more with Chris, but does Chris feel the same?

Bright and early on my fifth birthday, my family and I uprooted our lives in Florida and traveled here to Georgia. Memories of Florida are hazy, but if I were to describe the past years here in Georgia in a single word, bold and in all caps would be the word “struggle.” We came here chasing a dream, the dream of a prosperous future in the booming automotive industry. Unfortunately that dream shattered to pieces, and like a barrier, we endured the shrapnel.

Once upon a time, on a small town called Smallville, there was a boy named Ej. He was just a normal boy that went to school, hung out in his barn to think and looked on his telescope to look up at stars. One night outside of his house, he lays down on the wide open field with the grass swaying with the wind. He looks up to the stars and says to himself "What if I could make the world a better place?" Right after he says that, he sees a rapid, giant red ball coming down from the sky. He was too mesmerized to move. It came closer and closer to him until it finally hit him. Everything went black.

A clock ticked breaking the solitude of the dull classroom, the hand made a steady “tick” sound as it progressed on it’s journey to make it all the way back up to the twelve. Behind me a large window looked upon a busy highway. I gazed down on the cars making their way in the world. I wondered where they were going, who drove those cars, what grand adventures were they about to embark on? My focus consumed every corner of my current existence, other than where it had been required, on the blank page of notebook in front of me. It was my Sophmore year of high school. I had landed myself in an ‘Advance Placement Journalism’ class, on the whim I desired to take a class where I had plenty of friends, so I would not have to sit alone. I continued to stare from the clock to the busy world beyond my grasps, until the faithful buzzer toned. In a rush of merriment I raised up, swooped my faithful bag over my shoulder and made a beeline for the door. “Ali, could you please stay back?” The voice constructed a barrier between my escape and me. A rush of fear and embarrassment swept my demeanor, as I plopped myself back upon my cold chair half desk combo. My mind screamed in panic, “what had I done?” Curious sets of eyes gawked upon me as they departed from the dull classroom. The old plump teacher made her way to my desk and sighed, “What are your plans, Ali? What are your dreams? What do you want in life?” I gazed out again at the cars, unable

The boys settled into their seats, while Mrs. Whitney began taking roll. The boys usually enjoyed this class, for Mrs. Whitney always had a fun personality. But, today was different, and she seemed upset about something.The boys were unable to decipher her glares at the class, and Tristan decided to zone out. Tristan sat back in his seat, and blocked out all of the noise in the classroom.