Personal Narrative Analysis

On the about last week of March, I, Sgt. A. Walton confiscated an unauthorized Casio G-Shock Gray/Black/Light Blue in color watch that was sent to Nottaway Correctional Center by Offender C. Barker #1421016 family member.

Jerry wakes up in a dissociative state still hungover from the previous night’s drug binge, nullifying the pain with a fluffy, symmetrical line of Peruvian cocaine and a tightly packed bowl of luminescent green, trichome plastered cannabis nug sourced from California out of his Illadelph bong; naturally, Jerry was quite the aficionado in recreational drug use and progressive dependency. As dopamine floods his prefrontal cortex he’s invigorated with a renewed sense of grandiosity; he looks in the mirror, his eyes are sunken in, the pallor of his complexion is ghostly, an apparition of a once revered public figure. He averts his eyes to his many awards and commendations for a brief moment, before the cannabis takes effect. He brushes

The pixies leader looked at the quartz and garnets with interest. He flew closer and picked up a medium size quartz crystal and bit into to to check whether is was real or not. Once he was satisfied he agreed.

Kevin and I stepped into a whole new world in the fall of 2009. We began our degree program at Emmanuel School of Religion, which is now called Emmanuel Christian Seminary. We were working on our Masters of Arts and Religion. I was excited and nervous about going back to college. Our first day was terrifying. Kevin and I attended orientation the week prior to classes starting. There was a definite realization this academic program was going to be a challenge. However, I wanted a challenge. On the first day of class, we started with Greek. Our professor was Dr. Marwede. He opened the class with a test. He came over to my chair first and handed me a paper with a list of Greek words on it. My immediate reaction was shock, which Dr. Marwede realized I was overwhelmed by the look on my face. He told the class we could take it home as homework. Many of the students in the Greek class had previous experience with Greek; however, Kevin and I had no knowledge at all. We were overwhelmed. We were assigned five chapters and told to return the next day for a quiz with our homework.

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

I believe that opportunities that are not taken only open up more opportunities in the future.

“I can’t feel my feet, guys” is what I said to my friends when I first discovered something was wrong. We laughed and made jokes as they would kick my feet and say “can you feel this? can you feel this?” Day after day I would tell myself not to worry and that this feeling in my feet would diminish over time. It only took 2 days for the numbness in my feet to disperse to the entire right side of my body. As soon as this feeling had reached my ears I decided it was time to speak up. I told my father what I was feeling and both unconcerned, we had come to the conclusion that it was simply growing pains and that we would keep an eye on it. I felt a sigh of relief as I continued on doing my everyday routine. I thought the feeling in my body would go away but every day the feeling became more severe. I woke up one morning in the middle of the night in excruciating pain and a headache that I had never experienced before. I ran to my parents bedroom in tears. It was only then that we knew something wasn’t right.

From the moment I could, I read. Of course, during kindergarten I started by only understanding Spanish, so reading took a little longer for me to comprehend. But over time, I did learn to speak and read through the English language and for a long time, reading was my escape. Being able to invite myself into the author’s world of emotions, thoughts, and ideas was the ideal situation. From wanting to leave my world and delve into another, I became passionate about, nay, obsessed with reading.

From youth, I was surrounded by gifted individuals; my parents, my sisters, my aunts, even my cousins. They were all overachievers, who strove towards one goal. Excellence in their field of medicine. I, quite stubbornly, resisted that which was my calling for the longest time.

One of my reasons that lead me to the decision of transferring from my current institution is the mere fact that I feel limited in my current degree program. The class selections that are tailored specifically for my major are very restrictive. There simply aren’t many classes offered. When it comes to registering for classes I see the same few classes time and time after again. I want to be at an institution as a prestigious as yours that offers a plethora of classes that are related to my major. Although there are specific core classes you have to take, your institution provides vast selections to choose from, unlike my current one.

I was just an ordinary teenager, now finally finishing out my freshman year of high school when I got this terrible “invisible injury”. My friend and I were running around on the last day of gym for the school year when out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark shadow quickly approaching my head. My whole body jolted as I tried to comprehend what had just happened, my head spun. Little did I know that my life would be transformed those quick seconds due to the chaos that was gym basketball. The summer going into sophomore year was anything but ordinary, majority of it consisting of me sitting in dark rooms playing with children's toys such as legos and play-doh, or wearing sunglasses everywhere, even inside stores at the mall. It was as

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.

Travelling throughout the dirt roads in the green state of Michoacan, Juan Cabezas Jr. expected a pleasant afternoon. He is a carpenter who travels from village to village often taking roads isolated throughout the countryside, but on this sunny day with spotted clouds in the sky he expected what any other human being would expect, a calm day, he was wrong. As he drove along the road, he thought he was alone, but he soon began to see a convoy of large Ford pickup trucks. The convoy then began to snake in front of his car eventually bringing him to a hault. Men in ski masks armed with what seemed like American made rifles, handguns, even grenade launchers. A man soon approached my cousin Juan telling him to keep his head down because these men

With time off from work or school, summer is common and popular time to travel. This year, I flew by myself to Colorado to stay with my cousins for two weeks. I’ve been there before, and we never do the same thing twice. I picked this picture to represent the traveling I did this summer because there’s absolutely nothing similar to this close to home. During the day, the sand absorbs so much heat from the sun the tops blacken, and burns to the touch. But at night, when the sun drops so does the temperature and the dunes come alive with people. I painstakingly hiked to the top of highest mound and the view of stars was breathtaking. I could see the plains stretch for miles to the edge of the mountains that towered over us. The dunes are within

I was about to enter high school when I bought my first DSRL Camera. I gathered the gifts from past holidays and birthdays until I had enough to buy the camera of my dreams. When taking it out of the packaging, I did not know at that time that this piece of technology would instill such vast amounts of knowledge and wisdom into my life. I had no way of knowing that my favorite activity would become somewhat of a representation of my life.