Personal Narrative : A Personal Story?

I squatted beside the sink. It was Two-Bit’s black-handled switchblade. After Dally had gotten shot, the police found the switchblade on him and turned it in to the station. Darry had convinced the police chief to let him have it back. It was going to be a surprise for Two-Bit on his birthday. He turned 19 in a couple weeks. Darry was saving it for him. I examined the blade closer. It had a red stain on it. I turned to Soda, scared. ”Where is Darry? Have you seen him?”

The stuff you see in crime shows. “That’s a lot of cops.” Alice states. “Yea, there are.” “Let’s go ask if they will let you in. Did you bring any proof of who you are?” “I brought my student Id. That should work.” I answer “Yea, I hope that’s enough.” We walk up to the cop that looks like he’s in charge, because he’s just standing there bossing everybody around. “Sir, would I be allowed to enter my room.” “Who are you.” The officer asks me with annoyance. “I’m Anna Ackerman, the daughter of deceased Miranda Ackerman, and sister of deceased Devin Ackerman.” “You are only allowed in your room, go around the back. I’ll have one of my officers bring you.” “Whatever.” I say exhausted. Officer Rogers brought us around to the back. We are going inside the house, the house that my mother will never walk in the halls, or cook in the kitchen, or read in the office. The house that my brother will never play in the game room, or talk with his friends on the phone in his room, or play hoops with me in the driveway. “Anna are you gonna go inside?” I didn’t realize I was just standing in the doorway. “Yea, I’m just tired.” Alice still staring at me with worry in her eyes. I ignore her look, and steady myself. I walk in, and turn to the hall that leads to my room. “Alice you coming?” “Yea.” “Officer you can stay here.” I tell him. “Fine.” He

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

“I will allow you to go to over Mackenzie’s sleepover as long as you promise to watch PG-13 or younger”, my mom yell up the base of the stairs from the kitchen.

I open the door, and let Anna walk in first. “Anna do you want to go right up to my room?” “No, I want to see your parents first.’’ She answers. “Ok, I think there in the dining room.” I tell her We walk in to the dining room, and see my mother crying, and my dad has his head in his hands. “Mom, are you okay?” I ask. “No, not really. Why are you home so early, did you hear what happened to Anna’s Mom and brother?” “I’m home early because Anna asked the superintendent if I could come with her here, and yes I’ve heard.” “Oh, I didn’t see you Anna. Are you okay is there anything you want me to get you?” My mother asks worriedly. “No, I’m fine.” Anna says with no emotion what so ever. The phone starts ringing, and everybody just stares at it. Anna walks over to it and picks it up. “Hello.” I hear her say. “OMG. YES, we made it here in one piece. Don’t freakin call us again!!” I here Anna yell to the phone it must be the school that called. She slams the phone down. The phone rings again. Anna picks it up and brings it to her ear slowly then says quietly and threatening. “I thought I tol-. “Hello sheriff, what would you like.” She asks, as sweetly as she can in this moment, which isn’t very sweet. “This is her” I hear her say “Yes, I would like to see him.” Then she sets the phone down softly. “Anna, what did the sheriff want?’’ I ask her. “They found him” she answers abruptly. “Found who” I ask “Him, the murderer.” She says normally. “Anna, why did you agree to see him.” She never answered the question, so I asked a different one.”Anna you want a change of clothes?” “Yes” She

I’m surrounded by expected actions and bouncing basketballs. I had not yet found my true calling, though many around me have, whether it be basketball, cheerleading, the adrenaline of running past you’re competition they all had found something to drive them. It took me a year to find what I was truly passionate about and now that I am recollecting on it I’m obsessed with it, the overwhelming intensity that I am overcome with when I touch a volleyball. The first year of volleyball was rough, I enjoyed the fast-paced adrenaline when those fervent seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours, but I didn’t have the skill required to continue to pursue the goals I set for myself. But I kept grinding, always practicing, always finding some way to include some sort of training into my daily endeavors like studying in intervals and rewarding myself with some technique training,

Let me tell you why im awesome. I’m awesome because I’m athletic. I’m a great team-mate and I also run fast. When I was younger I wanted to be a professional soccer player because I just loved that sport so much. And because of that dream it made me athletic. It gave me the ability to run fast, but best of all it made me a great team mate.

A time where I felt as if I had messed up really bad was when I was a sophomore, I was in the softball team and it was my first game of the season. I had never played softball before in my entire life so I was pretty nervous. I practiced everyday but to be in an actual game was really nerve racking for me but I tried my best to keep my cool. During the game, my coach calls me in to play right field. It went fine because I felt as if I didn’t do much, none of the girls were batting the ball to my direction so I was just pretty much standing or rather in the position I was supposed to be in and waiting. It was time to switch so now our team had to bat, I waited to see if I would be next and to my surprise, I was. As I went up I felt my legs

Everyday I try to set goals for myself, whether it is just completing my homework before I decide to do something with my friends or obtaining a personal best in shot put and discus. I am always challenging myself to meet my goals; for example, last year during a league meet for Track & Field, I made it to finals for discus and in order to prevail over the other throwers I had to throw my best. My first three throws were in my mind, horrible. I made it to finals but the previous throws were throwing me off, plus I had just twisted my ankle walking out of the ring. When I met up with my mom, I was angry and upset. I didn't know what was going to happen, all I knew was that without my mom, who encouraged me to envision how far I wanted the discus

courage to turn and face what he was fearing most, he saw a large bald doglike creature with razor ten inch teeth snarling towards him. Instinctively he pulled his arms back and cast a fireball hitting the oversized pug straight on the nose effectively burning away half of it’s snout although it didn’t seem to bothered by this, if anything it only angered the ferocious animal more. The collective footsteps of the four Larks approached where the cabinet stood, he slid himself back against the wall closing his eyes in relief when he felt some of it break away under his fingertips.

She chuckled, “Not yet sweetie” She brushed the hair off my hairs and tucked it behind my ears, in that way that only she can do, “When I manage to raise any homeless giant bodybuilder gladiator weirdos I’ll let you know, okay? Now get dressed, you're gonna miss the bus.” I basically have the best mom in the world. I did as she said and threw on an old athletic T-shirt with ninjas on it and some jeans and sat on the edge of my bed to put my socks and shoes on. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something through my window, It looked like a miniature pelican, it flew straight through my open window and landed inside of my shoe. “What the-” I opened it reluctantly as if waiting for any bloodthirsty giants to pop out. I opened it and there were to words on the paper in red ink almost as if someone had wrote the message in red paint with a wide paintbrush. The message read “HELP ME”. I immediately thought to text Robyn about it. “Look at this weird letter I got.” I texted her. I waited a minute or two. No reply. I decided she was probably already at school waiting for me. I turned to the doorway and swore I saw a shadow jump out of the

My voice arose with the idea that I AM THE PERSON YOU WANT when I finished reading your job description. Firstly, according to my resume, you would find out that I got required educational background and working experience. It is matching well. Secondly, professional training in counseling lets me hold the following skills: in individual meeting warmly, better communication, adhere to work ethic, clearly understanding of people’s problem. Nevertheless, the most important one is how to work as part of a team. If time is allowed, I can hold relaxation practice in our team, in order to help all members manage stress well.

Willow acted calm like it was no big deal we might go in a submarine but I could tell she was excited and eager. Willow’s dad finally finished talking to the lab workers. He walked over to us with a stern look on his face. He sighed like he was sad, and my heart dropped. Did they say no. He sighed again, “Well, they said,” then he smiled, “We can!” All three of us jumped for joy! We were going in a submarine! “You scared me for a second!” Willow told her dad. “Yeah, well we have to go now or we won’t be allowed. So, right this way!” He guided us through the mass of submarines to a bright orange one with black lineing. “Woah,” I whispered. “Cool, right?”Scarlett nudged me. “Yeah,” I said softy. Willow’s dad went around the left side of the

“Wake up, Wake up,” His mom yells him from his doorway. He slowly got up out of his queen size bed and made out some of the words his mom said like “where, to, be, late,” but nothing after that. He stuttered as he walked over to his white dresser in the closet of his room. He opened the drawer slowly not knowing what to wear. Which felt like an hour but was only forty-five seconds he finally found what he was going to wear. He soon made it to the bathroom, turning the cold shiny handle of the shower and not even waiting for it to get warm. “Hurry up,” his mom yelled as he hopped out of shower and quickly put his clothes on. He was in such a hurry, he almost slipped on the slippery cold tile of the bathroom floor barely catching himself with granite counter top of the sink. His mom was waiting patiently in the car not knowing if he would be there until another two hours. Suddenly as he looked at his phone charging on his bed stand he noticed the time. He basically sprinted for the elevator in his five story house with his gear and rode it down three floors to the main floor. He jumped out of the elevator and sprinted to his car still sore from being at the ice rink the last four nights practicing and training. He wasn't happy that he couldn’t get anything to eat, but new there would be snacks on his plane. They sped out of the long driveway of the five story house in East Grand Rapids.

Later that day her dad was drinking, so her mom decided to drive him home. However, he kept insisting that he was fine to drive, but a police car pulled them over. The cop that pulled them over was a tall, white, dirty, blonde hair with brown eyes, his name is Christopher Lemons. After the cop and his partner got out of the car, her mom started to explain to the officers that her husband had been drinking and needed help taking the keys away from him. Instead, Lemons took the law into his own hands. Lemons started to use racial slurs by calling him a “Spick” and started to beat him up with a hand bar. After Lemons and his partner got tired of beating him up, they put a gun on his head and told him, “We are going to kill you! You Spick you don’t deserve to live.’’ They put him in the back of the car and started to take him downtown. Throughout the cop ride to the station, they kept telling him they were going to put a bullet through his head and kill him. His wife