Personal Narrative

It was near the end of my 8th grade school year, about 2 month away from graduation, when something I never expected to happen actually happened. This event really changed my life forever and shaped me into who I am as a person today. I had just arrived at my house after school when my parents received a call that my grandma was ill and that we should come down to check on her. As we rushed down to my grandparents house, my family was deeply concerned about what may have happened because my grandma had never really had many health issues before this. As we arrived at their house and walked through the door, we were greeted with the sight of my grandma sitting in a chair with a blanket around her while she was sleeping. My family’s first reaction

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

The training ground was outside and depending on what we needed it for was able to instantly change its terrain. I walked over to a nearby basket and pulled out an old wooden bow and a quiver full of arrows.

Elizabeth is sitting in the living room on the couch in her pajamas. The lights are dim and low and papers are scattered around her. The home is silent except for her fingers tapping away at the keyboard and the occasional shuffling of paper work. A notification sound comes from the computer. Elizabeth leans in and stares at the screen with her eyebrows crumpled as she reads. She leans back and her face becomes blank as she stares off into the distance. She closes the laptop, stands up and goes into the bedroom. As she approaches the bedroom door she reaches up to the top of the doorframe, grabs and object and puts it into the pocket of her pajama pants. Elizabeth enters the bedroom, climbs onto the bed, brings her knees to her chest, wraps

It was 2:00 AM and I was working 3rd shift that night, it was lonely and dark. I was the only one here. As I sat in silence the phone rang I picked it up not expecting anyone to be calling because I haven’t had a call in years. When I picked up the phone all I hear is a deep soft whispering, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Every second the whispering got louder and louder until there was a high pitch screaming. I slammed the phone down on the receiver with a rush of adrenaline. My heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was going to burst, (the reader takes a deep breath to build suspense) agin I sit in silence, waiting for something to happen. I was so paranoid I didn’t know what to do, my mind was racing, do I leave or do I

I stared, face pressed against the glass window, leaving smeared breath marks. Trying to get my last glance at the house, but my tears making my vision blurry. I could see faint outlines of my friends waving goodbye, I knew I’d never see them again. The car was dead silent besides the sniffling and the sound of the car going over the bumpy road as we drove up the road until the house, my friends, and neighborhood were out of sight. I was born in Framingham Massachusetts and we lived there happily for years. My siblings and I had lots of friends there and we also had family close by. One day, we found out that we were moving to Sudbury, my dad’s hometown. My parents came to assent and had decided that this wasn’t the place they wanted my siblings

I wake up at 5:30, five days a week, and each time I try to cram in five extra minutes, I end up having a late start to my day.

Divorce. A shaping tool that impacts the child’s future immensely. With no additional income source, my fresh off the boat mother had to work constantly to keep the bowls filled with rice. However as a direct result, I would have to take care of myself as my mother was rarely at home. My strict mother would never let me outside so I filled my time with video games. Alone with my video games, no one can question my actions or behavior. With only a mother as a role model, I develop a feminine personally. I thought I was just a normal boy, and growing up with this mentality became problematic. Combined with my mentality and higher pitch voice, people would make fun of me and never took me seriously. I never understood why causing me to stay in

The summer during 7th and 8th grade was the best summer that I’ve ever experienced! I had so much fun and made so many unforgettable memories with both my friends and my family. I even met a few celebrities, including Honey Boo Boo while down in Panama City, Florida! Summer has always been one of my favorite seasons because everyone can stay up late and sleep in as late as they want to. Just like everyone else, I relaxed by the pool for the majority of the summer.

My pursuit of Kelly began almost a year before we met. I was at one of my best friends Ryan's house and I noticed Kelly's picture was on their wall. Immediately I asked Ryan's girfirend, Rugila aka Roo, every question she would tolerate to answer.

When I found out I was moving I was terrified. It was the year of 2009 and I was only eight years old. It was me, my mom, and my three older brothers. We were moving from a tiny town in Bastrop called Beekman all the way to Sterlington. Who knew this would have been the most terrifying and exciting moment of my life as an eight year old girl.

For a while, I had been running away from the terrifying incidents. All I saw were men with big guns and people shooting. Everyone had a curfew. No one got out of the house after dusk. Life wasn’t the same, school wasn’t the same. My routines weren’t the same.

The music was blaring. It sounded like the music of a late nightclub. I couldn’t focus. I’ve never been a good multitasker. It’s impossible to listen to music and write an essay at the same time. My eyes glanced to the side to check Mira’s half of the dorm. Of course, she wasn’t there.

I had never felt so relieved once I was outside of that house. It almost felt as good as the Saturday the week of my high school graduation. The feeling of some great weight being lifted off my shoulders when I sat in my seat on the bus on my way out of my home state to college was so overwhelming that I had cried. Some of those on the bus spoke soothing words to me, but for the wrong reason. I wasn't crying because I was leaving home, I was crying because I was happy to be able to escape and unbelievable horrendous daily existence. My nightmare had finally come to an end, so I had believed.

Who knew someone so close to you could be so distant? Who knew that a ten-year old could interpret such a catastrophic event. It all started on November 13th 2007.. on this day, my father and I moved to the U.K. from Florida. We were going to be living in a community home in the heart of England. I didn’t know what to think, new home, new friends, new school, new country, everything was new. My father and I unpacked our bags from our old, beat up Cherokee and carried them into our humble abode for the next few months. The room was small, I of course expected rainbows and butterflies but that’s just the mind of a ten-year old adolescent. I began to unpack my clothes- basically a plethora of pink, purple & anything neon. But that’s not the point, that was then and this was now.