Personal Narrative Analysis

I open the door. I feel sick. I’m nervous and my stomach’s turning. The room is lined with neat rows of desks, each one occupied by another kid my age. I walk in and sit down in an open seat, kids awkwardly staring at me. It’s my first year in 9th grade, second month in NJ, and my first year in the United States of America.

I entered the class and quickly found a seat next to the window. I always loved window seats. It was a good place to think. A lot of people think that only slackers and daydreamers sit there, but not me. In fact, I’m anything but a slacker. Windows opened up the world for me. Made me realize that whatever test I’m taking or paper I’m taking notes on isn’t going to be permanent. Soon, I’ll be outside, away from the hell I call secondary school.

I was convinced at one point in my life that I wouldn't graduate high school, let alone get a college degree. I grew up in a broken home, where there was physical, emotional, mental, and sexual abuse. This all had a tremendous affect on me as a young girl, well into my teenage years, and early adult hood, and significantly impacted the choices I made for myself at the time. I moved out of my home at the age of 15 after my mother remarried, I went to live with a friend which I thought at that time was a great idea. It wasn't long after that I began smoking marijuana, doing cocaine, drinking and taking rohypno. I was hanging out with all the wrong people, and I stopped going to school for over a month my junior year. One morning after I had drank

Growing up, my parents and I always took the time to read stories together. Before bed, before school, while playing with dolls in the bathtub. Fiction and nonfiction stories alike taught me about both the physical, literal world around me, and the world I could create in my own mind when I needed to find comfort. It was through the works of fiction, however, that I learned despite the hardships of life, I could disappear into a world I could mold however I pleased.

Once upon a time, there was an illegal immigrant named Rosa she came from a poor family and her mother left her when she was 4 years old for another man.

Most of your posting was geared towards something I mentioned in mine, and I couldn’t agree more. How exactly do we combat the nature of warfare used against us for the last 13 years? How do we counter the ruthless tactics? Using women and children as shields and weapons themselves, seeking shelter in mosques, suicidal tactics and IEDs? Up-armored vehicles and better equipment will only go so far, and while we’ve made huge leaps in the realm of modernizing our force, I don’t believe it to be enough.

If you've ever moved you may have felt the way I have. Now this whole moving "thing" didn't seem to bad to me in the beginning, probably due to the fact that I was only 8 years old. Though I didn't exactly know that we were moving out of the county and away from my friends, that was the surprise to me. That reason specifically hit me the hardest. Either way it could have gone worse, but it went pretty well after awhile of settling in, fixing ,and changing my life style.

In 2011, I walked through the big red doors of Metamora Township High School at a whopping 92 pounds. I was five foot as a freshman, causing me to be very nervous for the first day of the next four years of my life. High school had its ups and downs, but overall was a very fun experience. What I remember most from high school is the wrestling season, student sections from different sports, participating in football, and making new friends along the way. High school was a very good experience for me to realize my goals in life and left me with great memories.

The smell of wood from pencils ,unused books, girly perfume, are strong I smelt it as soon as I walked in. That nervous gaze on the students is relaxing knowing that I wasn’t the only person in the room that is nervous is relaxing.This is the first day of my seventh grade year. Not knowing what to expect is frightening. As I sit down I peek around and notice that there is no color in the room. The teacher looks aged and strict,I peek around and see posters of world war one and other historical events.I see a friend she immediately after walking in sat next to me. During class Bryanna and I had made a new friend she had black glasses,dark jeans, and a grey uniform shirt. She sat beside us and the three of us made conversation after she asked

On the way there, my dad kept telling me to relax, and that I would be fine. The drive was only ten minutes, but it felt like an hour. ”Have a good day sweetie, you’ll do great.” he comforted. As I was walking to the door, I had a nervous taste in my mouth. I ended up having to wait for a while, then the bell rang and all the students were allowed to go to their lockers. When I waked through the halls, I saw so many new faces, and I heard everyone talking with their friends. The voices were all so enthusiastic and excited, a complete contrast to how I

A gentleman in his mid sixties was lying on the operating table. "You can rest outside if you want", said the cardiac surgeon while looking into my eyes. Preoccupied with the patient's picture before anesthesia, I struggled to swallow my worries and fulfill my promise to him to stay close throughout the operation. It was not much time until the potassium mixture was infused and the heart was sucked out of spirit. Over the next two hours, my mind and body were stretched to their limits. Despite being captivated by the precision with which the staff manipulated the grafts with the coronary arteries, I wasn't able to break the countless thoughts and apprehensions that riddled my head. As the blood was re-pumped into the heart, the flat line on

I always had trouble making friends. I was socially awkward, misunderstood almost every cue from my peers, and too clumsy for my own good. By the age of 9, I knew it would be exponentially harder to build a relationship with others. My parents started the process of divorcing each other, placing me in the mediator position. During this time, I was forced to help raise my younger sister and manage the household while my father worked. Instead of doing elementary school workbooks, I balanced checkbooks. Rather than trying to understand vocabulary words from novels, I had to figure out legal terms. I stopped trying to connect with my teachers and my only friend. I became closed off from other people, but more importantly, myself.

As a child most of my time was divided between two places, my home and the Performing Arts Center. In elementary school and most of middle school i had pursued acting as a hobby and a possible career choice. Lately I have found myself more interested in other parts of that industry, such as directing and editing. Although I have seen myself becoming less and less attached to the PAC, I still have vivid and meaningful memories of my time there.

have a passion for business, that makes me an outstanding and fierce competitor for LIVE. My previous experiences from when I joined LIVE Future Leadership Challenge in Grade 11 and 12 gives me an advantage over other contenders. In fact, my team was placed 3rd in Grade 12 as a result of our determination and diligence.

Kids always complain about how their parents compare them to the older sibling and they always want to be different from them. I always wanted to be more like my older brother, Alec. Everything he did, I did too. He joined swim, and later I followed in his footsteps and did the same events he did. I always looked up to him and he had a strong influence on my life and the things I did. Track season came along and I was participating but I didn’t know what events to do so I looked to my brother for advice. He also did track and suggested high jump and long jump, I had already decided on long jump but was way too afraid to do high jump because I had never tried it before and it looked so intimidating.