Personal Narrative: As I Know

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

When I was younger I had always been described as mature. Although I wasn’t anywhere near being “mature”, it was a word always used to describe me, well-mannered and mature. While my brother was goofy and social, I was shy and serious. We were twins yet total opposites. As a child, because that was the word almost always associated with me, it crae unusual, almost toxic idea about myself. I had to be mature to be what people liked about me. So, it never occurred to me to be able to not take myself seriously and say something like “Oops that was dumb” and laugh it off. For some reason that didn’t make sense to me to say silly things like that.

I like to beat the rush for lines and do not prefer being late, but

Although my high school years are up, I am proud to say that my time there was well spent. Since my freshman year I have been an avid member of Trevor G. Browne high school and the community and tried my best to contribute and give back as much as possible. I am currently enrolled at ASU where I plan to further my education in psychology and medicine in order to go back to my community and help my people. During my high school years I commuted back and forth from the Tohono O’odham reservation to Phoenix Arizona. This was an utter culture shock but it made me realise where my small community at home, a small village called North Komelik in Sif Oidak District on the Tohono O’odham reservation, faults and it was my duty to be the change in order

I mended my body into the fabric of the hammock, curling my face into its warmth and accepting its embrace. Alex began swinging the one next to me before settling in. My legs rose up in the air, swaying around while I examined the old scars on them.

My mother had quiet a lot of brothers and sisters, there was nine in all.. Mother said most of her brothers and sisters married out of their parents house in Sampson City, moving into one of the houses owned by a man named Mr. Hogan, In these days the houses were called quarters, which consisted of one or two bed rooms and a kitchen all sat in a row. The families living in those little houses worked for Mr. Hogan who was the BOSS MAN. All the men worked at the Turpentine steel, that was owned by Mr. Hogan. They paid no rent and received a very small salary for their labor. Sundays after church was the relaxing time. We would visit with family and friends. In that time we did not own cars in that time, we did not have to go out in shop. The

My dad, for as long as I can remember, has always been a big part of my life. All throughout middle and high school we would have heart to heart conversations just father and son. I can remember the warmth of the fire, the taste of tea on the tip of my tongue, a cool midnight breeze blowing in carrying the scent of grass and fresh rain, my dad sitting across the room telling me about the different projects he was working on, and regaling me with advice to help in everyday life. One night, he told me something that would change my life forever: that all the different clubs, hobbies, and sports that I do are connected to each other in some way, and how each skill I gain from each of these different activities can be filed away to use in a later

“Dover, want some Wendy’s?” Amy stated in a casual pitch. Dover knows his name, so he will give some kind of response, usually, but there was nothing.

The woman has her back to me, as if I am someone who can easily be

She's got the black plastic of a cutting knife handle gripped in her palm. Beige-painted fingernails glisten under the scrutinizing lights of our glazed kitchen; a classy and neutral color, like herself. She's grinning in concentration, a thin upward-curving line shaping her lips.

3:40 am, I had awoken, sweating from anxiety, but somehow shivering. My shoulders especially, were cold to the touch. I had walked to the window sill in my sleep again, which had made it the third time that week. When I looked down, I saw blood and froze; it was Kitty. She let out another scream, and I realized it was her voice whom I heard crying, not my own. I was not dreaming anymore. How could I be so ignorant? My head told me to run to the phone, but my body froze, I was weak from shock by both my own night terror, and Kitty’s forsaken body. I swear, I told my mind to move a thousand times; fear had paralyzed me.

I remember the first day of my 10th grade year in high school. Walking down the small hallways that were scented with coffee, cologne, and perfume all assorted together. Right by my side was my friend named Mia Williams. Mia was Native American with long black hair that was in a French Braid, and she was around 5’7, 150 lbs. Every step we took, insisted of us bumping shoulders with other people that were walking in a different direction.

I listened to my favorite music when you were on tour. When I came home from work—I’d turn on the record player, sway slowly with the first verse—then dance through the house shouting the words like I wrote them myself. They were the singers you hated. Janice Joplin, The Mamas And The Papas, Stevie Knicks. Their songs all sounded the same you told me. Whiny and angry and absolutely no fun.

It was a warm september night in idaho falls and i was at a gymnastic gym but it was open to everybody that is why i was there. Kids laughing, music playing and all smiles. I was one of the kids having a good time until… I decided to go on a platform , below there was a foam pit you could jump into . The platform standing at about 8 feet tall. I climbed onto the platform and out of the corner of my eye i see shining in silver great big S hook… So I decided to put it on my belt loop and hang over the pit. I was hanging for about 10 seconds and my friend was holding on the the rope that the hook had hung and I said “pull me up” and just like that it went quite.

It was a new morning in Philadelphia, I woke up, started my day eating and then walked to school. While I was walking I noticed that no one was around me and continued to walk. I made it to my class wondering why no one was here and in the hallway. A few second later someone banged the door behind me, I backed away to the back room. The person came in and started to walk towards me with blood and bite marks on his body. Covered with fear I ran through the back door looking for a teacher. While I was running I saw more people like the person from before outside the window and began to realize that my school was infested with zombies. I started running to the gym looking for equipment and took with me a hockey stick, a rope, and a backpack. While