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.

At the end of my Junior year, I watched all of my older friends work on scholarships and prepare for graduation. Everyone seemed to know what they wanted to go to school for, and what they wanted to do after they graduated. While watching them, I began to reflect on the past school year, thinking back to the first week of school sitting in the locker room talking to to my friends about how we are ready to be seniors and figure out what we want to do with our lives. But, listening to all the seniors talking about their majors and schools, I began to feel nauseous. I had no clue what I wanted to do after high school. Was I supposed to have that figured out already? I then began to have questions thrown at me left and right throughout the summer.

Last summer was my most memorable summer so far. It was full of injuries, trips, and lots of my friends. I first took a dive straight off my horse, second I went zip lining on Mackinac Island in Michigan. After that I competed in my county fair. Next, summer will have a hard time taking the place of the summer of 2015.

Imagine of being born and grew-up without having communication in your country. Back in my childhood life, I created a massive of problems with my parents, teachers, and even friends which made me felt lachrymose. Could not understand why my parents and teachers were outraged that I can feel being discriminated, abused, and humiliated. Not learning to speak and understand English until I became six. However, I spoke a couple of languages, Vietnamese and Chinese though. As a child, the time when I lived with my grandma for a while, she first taught how to speak Chinese. And when I move to live with my mom, she starts lecturing me on speaking Vietnamese. As I began proceeding to Preschool, these two languages stuck between my head. Still,

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

Picture this. The first rays of sunlight pierce the sky; smears of red and orange chasing away the darkness as its queen retreats behind the horizon. Dew shimmers across the fields of grass and clings to the branches of the trees. An elk’s call fills the early morning silence, answered by the bay of wolves. Their hunt is short; within moments the wolves have killed the weakest out of the herd of elk. They proceed to fill their bellies and chew the marrow from the bones before heading back to their den. Elsewhere, a similar scene starts the day. Only this elk’s call is met with the loud report of a rifle; the echo bounces off the crags of the Rockies. Having successfully made a kill, the hunter and his guide move in to snap pictures

I moved away as fast as i could to get some distance but then realized that this cat wanted me dead and i couldn't run so i had to fight. I ran and pounced on the cat like it did to me and i hit it with all of my force right on its chest. The cat let out a loud cry i felt relieved that i wasn't dying. I hit the cat again since it was still on the ground. Quickly the cat got up and ran away. I stood back watching this cat bllt down the street in pain and fear. The wound that this cat gave me on my face wa now catching up to me and it started to hurt. I turned around feeling like i was on top of the world reevaluating the fight in my mind thinking about how i could have improved my fighting technique. I kept walking until i got to the fence of

Many times throughout my life, I have needed advice from somebody. There are times when I am in a certain situation that I do not know how to handle, and therefore I seek help from people that I look up to. I have been given many pieces of advice that were brilliant ideas and that helped me solve a problem or deal with an issue that was burdening me. One particular piece of advice that I was given was undoubtedly the most important to me and it continually helps me through predicaments that I encounter.

For my artwork, I tried to create a manifestation of my idea on the harmful impact of technology, specifically it’s impact on nature. I had expressed this idea in numerous different ways. I had started with the sun. It was replaced with an Apple logo, but what I was really trying to represent was artificial vs natural. The Apple logo represented the idea of big tech companies, giving us things like artificial lights. This idea was shown in a more obvious way when looking at the trees. These trees were just robots with twigs attached to them, replacing the very basic natural tree. Similarly, I had shown an airplane head to head with a bird, which was upside down, the airplane had beaten the bird. Other pictures expressed different ideas, but

I am writing this letter as an apology for my misunderstanding and ignorance towards your parental judgment in the past. Throughout my younger years, I assumed the worst of your intentions and buried each instruction with frustration and negligence. With the daily directive to practice piano, you pushed me into the most dreadful moment of my life. As such, I figured the worst and assumed that you were forcing me to commit with no respect towards my feelings. However, I have learned these years that your judgment was simply misguided, not malicious. I believe that, as a mother, your decisions were difficult to make and that, regardless of what I felt, you chose the best for me. I assumed you hated me. I now know you made the choices to the best of your abilities. You wanted me to continue piano because it is a

Over seventeen years ago, the last day of school for my siblings, my mom start to have contractions around two in the afternoon. She had been preparing for my arrival and the upcoming summer vacation while my dad was working nearby. Finally, at six o’clock in the evening, on June 3rd, I was born a healthy baby a few days past my due date of May 31st. It had been quick, intense birth for my mom, who decided to go without an epidural. Throughout the two days my mom and I were in the hospital, we had many visitors: Uncle Tom, Granny, (mom’s side) and my siblings (Ben and Olivia).

I often think about what I would do if I never began to pursue my art. Would I be as creative? I began making art my main focus during my sophomore year of high school. Before that, I believed I was going to go into the science field. Not only did it become my main focus, but it was my escape from the struggles in my life, and my coping mechanism to handle my depression and anxiety, as cliche as it seems.

"How did I get here?" I thought, as the cold, hard steel of the policeman's handcuffs latched on the sensitive skin of both my wrists. Despite the staggering amount of drugs that were raging through what remained of my emaciated body, my mind somehow began to salvage some form of what could be considered clarity. As I slowly began to comprehend what was happening, the policeman started to guide me down the stairs of my home with caution. And that was when I cast my unsteady gaze over my shoulder, only to behold the absolute indignation, repulsion, and total disappointment that dominated my mother's face. Yes, I knew how I had inevitably arrived at this moment in my life. I was being arrested because I was a thieving heroin addict, I was

I remember one time I studied for countless number of hours on a test while I avoided my phone's constant buzzing, going straight home instead ongoing to Dunkin Donuts with friends, and blocking myself from my daily dose of social media like Facebook and Tumblr. I wrapped a piece of cloth with "fighting" written on it to my head and slapped myself to stay awake. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears until my textbooks and notes were drenched in with the combination of hard work. On the day of the test, I scribbled my answers and prayed to the time gods to give me more time. My handwriting went from legible to almost near hieroglyphic-like. When the bell rang, it signaled the end of the race. I dropped my pencil to the desk and I walked out