Personal Narrative : A Story?

irregular gasping breath and erratic heart beat in my ears. I managed to push myself up and tried to

So, now suddenly I was in an entirely new environment and scared out of my mind. I could see all of my dreams crashing and burning right before my eyes.

Sometimes, politically powerful men do unexpected things. LBJ was a proud Texan. LBJ signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 because of his strong principle beliefs. When he was a young adult he was a teacher for a segregated school and used part of his paycheck on them. I know LBJ's choice was principle because he was a teacher for a segregated school, he was willing to give up his chance at the next presidency, and he got the chance to give his own opinion.

People in politics will do anything to prove that they are good enough to get the vote of the citizens of America. From working hard to showing that they are worthy voting for. Some people thought it was principle, some people thought it was politics that lead Johnson to make the decisions he was making.

I was about to turn around to face the familiarity of the voice when I hear a deafening explosion to my right. I did what anyone would under the circumstances. I cowered beneath my arms, ready to anticipate the blazing heat of the flames.

A searing pain gripping my entire body. Unholy screams tearing through my ears. Unable to breath, unable to move, it felt like I was being compressed into a marble and torn into a billion pieces at the same time. The event lasted for what seemed like a lifetime, and then... it just stopped. I was left with an understanding.

“An evangelist of extremism who defended the John Birch Society, argued for making the Social Security system voluntary and mused aloud about defoliating Vietnam with nuclear weapons before being swept away in a Lyndon Johnson landslide.”(Grove,C01) In 1987, at age 85, and after a life in politics for five decades he retired from Senate. Afterwards, he became a gay rights activist.(Grove,C01) Although becoming a gay rights activist, it

people to stand up and come forward I started to hear another voice. That voice became louder

All i could hear was the faint yelp of a gravely injured man. As i looked around, i found the source of the adamant yelling.

Slowly, I awoke to see looming trees all around me, bending over me, watching. Listening. They heard the screams, they heard my screams, I was still screaming. I clamped a trembling hand down over my mouth to only realize it was closed, my lips rolled in. And then thick as velvet. The blood pooled.

“God, this one is gonna be annoying…” Sophia F. said under her breath. I rolled my eyes. She was a pain in everyone's ass.

But I still remembered the moments that I did savored for a minute. I have too many memories to remember all of them so I only remember the bestimate ones and worst ones. And few unnessacury

Confused, shocked and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, gasping for air, trying desperately to stagger onto my knees. A sharp pain suddenly ran up my spine into my forehead and quickly I collapsed back onto the cold damp floor inside this mangled metal coffin in which I was trapped in. Bit by bit I moved my hand closer to my forehead, trying to impede this massive throbbing that was affecting my head. I skimmed my forehead and paused my hand on a huge gash. The pain shot into my head again, but I was able to clutch on to the seat and hold my balance. There was blood pouring down the side

“That explains why none of them looked like him,” Lola said. The mother kind of resembled him but that’s

I could feel the blood pounding in my chest. Blackness crept into the fringes of my vision. My voice was hoarse from screaming; I didn’t remember screaming though.