A loud noise pierced through the undisturbed silence. It was something fresh to the community for it had never, been heard by me, or anybody else. Everything is coming back the memories, the rules of no books, and time. Memories has been forbidden to talk about, they don't allow it, for the danger of another war, no more peace, jealousy to many things can go wrong if they know it can start all over again. We all had memories once but they were taken away at the age of ten. Once those memories are taken away they are saved into a necklace. It helps to keep the memories safe and the secrets to, although they take away all your memories and you have to restart your whole life again. It has happened to me before it was hard to restart you didnt
My voice rang, interrupting my own thoughts. The memories inside my brain were like corridors, most being empty or locked up. It was my new goal in life to create new memories.. Better memories I guess.
Throughout the past year I went through a great deal of undertakings that caused me to become more experienced with my skills and how to overcome various challenges. These really built up my character and the way I am today. In all aspects, this past year consisted of going to Killington, Vermont, my brother going into the Air Force, meeting him in Texas for his graduation of basic training, completing a double backflip on a trampoline, landing a front flip on flat ground, accomplishment of a 2 ½ front flip on a diving board, getting 2nd at leagues, and competing in districts. All of these activities have advanced me in a skill or challenged me to an extent.
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.
For many, their formative years have a large influence on who they become as adults. This can happen in many different ways including new experiences, discovering a new sport or hobby, and uncovering what they are passionate about. For me, this was falling in love with a new language from a very young age and becoming very interested in the culture that was associated with it.
Failure is truly negative if we choose to not learn from it. When we face setbacks and difficulties, we are given golden opportunities to grow as people. Learning from our shortcomings makes us wiser, stronger, and unveils a chance to turn an undesirable outcome into a building block of character. My hockey career has been a sinusoidal trail of highs and lows, but I always learned from the downturns.
Although, I enjoyed steady employment my desire to finish school lingered with me. I needed a guided path of straight forward thinking with no distraction also with no life worries of daily living and survival.
A reoccurring circumstance in my life that I have been apart of for the last couple of years is competing on a cross-country team. For me, running is both exercise and a metaphor. Running day after day, piling up the races, bit-by-bit I raise the bar, and by clearing each level I elevate myself. At least that’s why I’ve put in the effort day after day: to raise my own level. Racing for me hasn’t always been this crystal clear. When I first started running there were the wind sprints, suicides, mile runs, max-out days, and the months of conditioning that made me wonder why as athletes we keep giving a 110 percent day in and day out.
Everyone will experience a death in their life at least once whether it’s a family member or friend, they will react to it differently and has to grieve in their own way. Death isn't something that someone looks forward too, so watching someone go from healthy, to where they can barely walk or talk on their own isn’t easy. But getting a lesson out of someones death takes away some of the pain, and helps you move on.
When i was born, i had a breathing problem, and paralyzed from head to toe. The doctor had to straped tubes to me, so I can breath properly. They have to perform operations on me, but It was unsuccessful. The doctor said, that i will die in a couple of hours. My mom and dad were shocked that was still alive in the morning. I was recovered so fast it was a miracle. A year later, i was out the hospital. 10 year laters, my parent was watching nba on tv ,while i was sleeping in my bed. Then the power went off suddenly. BOOM!! Glass broke.! I woke up and got curious where the sound came from, so i got out of bed, grab my baseball bat and went to investigative.i tiptoe into the hall wall trying not to make a sound. Then i heard a gun shots and
As a 16 year old young man, when I think about responding to a writing prompt asking me to describe an event that I consider a launch pad towards gaining maturation, the first things that should come to my mind are getting my first job, graduating from high school, or being accepted into the college of my choice. This was not the case for me. The event that I feel has marked my transition from childhood to manhood would be the conversation that my mother had with me after the shooting death of Trayvon Martin.
I have learned throughout the years that I am a person who gets nervous easily. Whether it is a speech, difficult test, or sports game I can count on the fact that I will be nervous, no matter the context. For me there are two things that I constantly worry about in these situations; the many possible bad outcomes, and the hype that comes before any of these situations. For example, when I was younger and had to go get a shot I would always stress about it leading all the way up to the shot. My mom would always say that the build-up is worse than the actual event. But, by over exaggerating the pain I thought I would feel, I validated my claim that shots are stressful. She was right, the shot and the accompanying pain were gone in ten minutes.
When I was a naïve little girl in middle school, I always had a problem speaking up for myself whether it was a bully, a teacher, or my friends. I’ve always had a problem with voicing my opinions because I honestly didn’t want to feel judged for saying them or for feeling absolutely useless. I was an awkward, 14 year old girl who had many insecurities and was always shy when it came to just being myself. Being shy and insecure didn’t really help with the fact that I had to do presentations all the time and had to socialize when we were paired up in partners. I was a nervous wreck when it came to do with anything of being myself in front of my peers and teachers.
Hartford, SD, the town that I am from, is a pretty small town with about seven churches. My family attends the Lutheran church nearly every Sunday and even sits in the same spot every week. When I was younger, I attended daycare and elementary school with kids who attended churches of different denominations. We would go through our days without discussing our differences. My parents would never discourage my sister and I from interacting with children who went to other churches. In fact, if we had a sleepover on a Saturday night with a friend, my parents said it was okay to go to their church the next morning. This allowed us to see what the different denominations looked like but we were young and often thought that it was all the same. Middle
I took voice lessons when I was ten; something I had always wanted to do, but had never tried. I wanted to be like Carrie Underwood, writing hit songs, making tons of money, and getting into all kinds of trouble with “cowboy casanovas”. Although singing was something I’d always wanted to do, I was afraid of being substandard, so I kept talking my parents out of it. Finally, my mom dragged me to the class and I was extremely nervous, I was shaking harder than Taylor Swift in her new music video. My mother’s assurance that I was a great singer and that the instructor would love me proved to be a poor buffer against my fears.
Elaborate on an issue of personal, local, national, or global concern that is of significant importance to you.