Personal Narrative Analysis

Since I was a kid, I had a ton of responsibilities, cleaning up after myself, doing chores, managing to not fight with my brother, although we fought all day everyday, but you know, it happens. One thing that I didn't know wasn't normal was parenting your parent. I go to school do all my class work and during recess and lunch I listened to all the other kids talk about going to the park after school and eating dinner together with their parents. When I got home from school, I had to do my homework and then take care of my mother. Bring her things she needed such as food, water, help her with many other simple everyday activities. Of course I wasn't the only one who was her “little helper” as she put it, my dad helped her and my older brother by two years,

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

From the moment I was able to tie my shoes and button my jacket, I knew I wanted to be a doctor. While all my classmates at the La Petite Academy made macaroni trees and smiley faces, I drew myself with a stethoscope curing a poor man with the cold. Every year in elementary school, we had career day. Never straying from my love to helping others I wanted to be a surgeon one year, to a dentist the next, and even an obstetrician, I changed my mind quickly once I found out what they did. Looking back on my childhood, I always had a connection with animals and always loved being around them. Early mornings I would open our nearly frozen-shut windows listening to the birds calling. Beside from the squawking of the crows, I heard a soft, pleasant yet curious bird call. It stuck out to me

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

By the time I reached Kindergarten and started my middle childhood years I already possessed several gross and fine motor skills. A few of these gross motor skills which I possessed were the ability to catch a ball, climb a flight of stairs without help, and the ability to stand on one foot for a given amount of time. A few of my fine motor skills were the ability to draw shapes, cut on a straight line, and to color within the designated lines. Upon entering Kindergarten I had an accident where I cut off the tip of my right index finger. I had to keep my finger bandaged for the first nine weeks of Kindergarten therefore it delayed a few of my fine motor skills. By the end of Kindergarten and the beginning of my 1st grade year I learned fine

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.

On September eighteenth, two thousand one I was born four minutes after five o'clock to my parents Monica and Craig Tonn. I was given the name Valerie because my mom's mom was a babysitter to a girl named Valerie and she had liked the name. I was given the middle name Erica after my dad's middle name Eric. I am two minutes apart from my twin Ashley, and my older sister Melissa is currently in eleventh grade. We currently own two spoiled dogs and one backyard lizard.

I was born on July 24, 2003 in Stuart, FL. I’ve lived in the same house in Palm

I am an over-comer. I came into this world 3 and a half months early at 3 pounds 1 ounce, even then I had the determination to fight through adversity and for life. The doctors told my parents I would have physical and mental handicaps; leg braces, back braces, no mobile function, or response capabilities, I proved them wrong. After contracting RSV at 2 years old, and suffering from multiple seizures, doctors told my parents I would have to take asthma and seizure medications, Phenobarbital, for the rest of my life. With my parents help and guidance, I have not had a seizure for over 15 years. More recently, in September 2014, my brother and I were involved in car accident, my injuries were not as bad as my brother's were, but I received a

As well as there is the other sentence in this article said, “They undoubtedly saw rainbow patterns in the misty spray, but were convinced they had discovered a fairy grotto.” I would like to visit South Island and Milford Sound again as last time I did not see a rainbow. I would imagine that I rotate my neck to see the rainbow, it would be as a heaven, discovered a fairy grotto. Event though, “Jessie explains that Milford Sound is actually a fiord, carved out by a glacier and then flooded by the sea, whereas a sound is a flooded river valley.” For my opinion, it seems that Milford Sound is just a fiord rather than a sound. However, it is still the most experienced traveller, which means you won’t regret to travel under the one of the most

Essentially anyone with influence in the region who had a stake in security was encouraged to attend, and we know of course that the insurgency is included in anyone with influence. Of course, the type of target that presents is monumental, but naturally we would not make it easy for the enemy. It would still be nowhere near easy to target the District Center just by our application of basic techniques; blocking positions, perimeter defenses, access control, observation and vigilance. It would have been easy to feel less than confident going into such a patrol, but we were the opposite. We had left no stone unturned and our Platoon was confident.

Through the rattling trees, my bloody eyes exploded, my body trembled and my lips grew dry. I felt a sudden numbness through my rushing blood and a murmur in the center of my body that made me collapse down to my knees. I hesitantly turned my head to the sight of the monstrous golden beast that was about ready to destroy and gush my intestines.It was at this moment that I realized the value of life and the aesthetic feeling I grew in my heart after this event. My mind rushed with chaos as I tried to figure out how to escape the attack of a defensive grizzly bear that stood by my side. My mind went into a temporary shock, a blank state, I thought of nothing but the dangerous predator. Her mouth bubbling, claws expanded and teeth shining in hunger, the feral beast gave me a second chance in life. My perspective on life and everything that I valued changed within a split second. I cherished every grain of sand found on the floor to every mountain that scraped the horizons of the clouds. The Sequoia National Park not only impacted me as a person but as a writer as

“I didn’t spend a lot of time being afraid…. Just before and after and during patrol. John answered, as he finished his coffee. “There’s nothing like a cold cup of coffee.”

After five hours under Mrs. Gonzalez’s 1997 Plymouth, my hands were so dirty I had to wash them ten times just to see my fingernails again. She was a familiar face around the shop, given that the teenagers down the street found her car to be an easy target for mischief, but this time, they had gone too far by crawling underneath her car and cutting out her catalytic converter (it has a high resale value on the street), and she couldn’t afford a replacement. When I said, “That’ll be $425,” she looked like she was about to faint.

Many young boys can not wait to get their hands on a wheel of a vehicle. I felt the same way; however, at a young age I was able to feel this freedom. My father is a farmer, with only one brother to help him farm. Sadly, my Uncle lives far away and my father had to farm on his own for years, because of this I was taught important life skills at a young age about life as a farmer and how to make a living. Throughout the time I have spent working by my father’s side I have learned a tremendous amount.