Personal Narrative

It was the last day of school and I was so excited for summer. I was going to do all kinds of stuff and go out of the state. In reality I was going for one of my worst summer ever. All I was going to do is travel most of the time. It was going to be the most boring summer ever.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

I will start this off with an introduction. I am Kelly Rose Keschner, an incoming sophomore in Highschool. I would say I get pretty good grades and try so hard in school to prove to myself and my peers that I am a very good student despite what has happened to me.

One of two. That's how I feel everyday of my life. I'm a twin and that means I will never be complete without my other half. When I was younger, I learned that having a twin does not keep me from things. It's getting to have a person in my life that I don't need to hide from, other than in hide and seek. When I was little, my brother probably hated me as much as I hated him. But we were together all the time. We went to school together, we were in the same class almost all the time. Sometimes, we had the same friends even. We shared birthday parties, cakes, presents, money. Basically the same things we still share now. But between us, we shared secrets. Little things that we thought were so cool. When my grandma gave us money, we split it and made sure not to tell our parents. I went and bought

Every student is excited when school starts. New classes, new backpacks, new clothes, and seeing all your friends is a part of this excitement. The first few weeks are new; no homework, plenty of free time, etc. But after two or three months, school isn’t cool anymore. The homework piles up, the tests are being printed, but how much stress can you take before it’s too much?

The bright white screen fills the room as I hold the remote up to the TV. I flick continuously through the channels, hoping something will take my fancy. I pause on a breaking news story. The voice of a woman fills the air as she explains. ‘A runaway escapee and murderer last seen heading towards the South end of Australia has disappeared. Anyone in the areas of’, I reach for the off button as the mumbles of voices drown out as the TV turns off. I put the remote down and shut my eyes. The dark patterns and swirls fill the darkness as I fill my mind with the endless possibilities from some of the deepest parts of my mind. I replay the series of my day over and over in my head. Replacing the mistakes in the day and presenting myself with what

When I was 11 I owned a dog named Bruno, who always managed to bring a smile to my face. Unfortunately one day when I returned from Mexico, I was devastated to find out he had run away. Ever since I was young I've been self-reliant so it was lovely to have someone there for any circumstance. My parents would usually be at work and when they home they'd usually be in their room resting. In addition, I'm the youngest child, my youngest older brother winning me by 8 years, so I didn't really have siblings to accompany me especially since they all started a family significantly young—this of course only led to them moving on faster meaning I was pretty much on my own. It was nice to have someone so ecstatic to see you that they literally jumped

In that moment I realized the world isn’t all friendship and giggles. I never expected to see or hear someone so cruel before in my life, I thought it only ever happened in the telenovelas my mom and watched after she picked me up from elementary school. I could see Skylar, the new student in my kindergarten class, talking with an upperclassman behind the tall metal slide. I barely heard the introductions, but I could clearly hear when the upperclassman laughed. He laughed at the name that the boy was given. I didn’t expect what came out of my mouth, and they certainly didn’t either.

There isn’t a day in my life that I wake up and do not ask myself, “Why?” Why did my mother have to leave? Why did this happen to me? Without a doubt, the absence of my mother is the hardest obstacle I have had to overcome. My parents were young and unsure how to raise a child on their own. My mom really believed she could not do it, so she left when I was eight months old. At that age, a mother to an infant is everything, yet she was not there. I grew up not knowing the love of a mother, but learned to be independent. I did not have someone to guide me through childhood because my dad was too busy working in order to provide for us, and his family had kids of their own to worry about. Though his family loved us, they favored their own children over me and my sister. We had to do everything around the house while they did nothing. We felt as if we had no voice and no one to support us. Being in this situation made me into

It was a cold autumn morning when I heard the news coming from my alarm clock radio. Two people had won the lottery winnings from yesterday's drawing. They get to split a great prize, both people got to take home over 3 million dollars. I have been playing the lottery for about ten years now, I have only won three or four thousand, hoping to hit it big. For eight years I have been cleaning and cooking in a half kitchen with dinette. The small apartment had that smell as if something had been wet and moldy. I have had to listen through paper thin walls of, shouting, fighting, and the occasional grunts from some dirty old man upstairs. The constant running trains echo inside the entire apartment building. The living room was just big enough for

The most powerful moment that has happened to me involving music happened in the middle of my seventh grade year. Prior to seventh grade, I played the violin but desired to learn the Double Bass. I asked a few times if I could switch instruments so that I could fulfil that desire, but my teacher always turned me down telling me that I should just stick with the violin, this of course made me devasted. Then the following school year, the teacher asked if anybody could play Bass because Alex (the bassist) had moved to a different school and we had only one bassist left in the orchestra and at that moment I got my chance to learn an instrument that I not only loved to hear, but also loved to look at, listen to and play. My teacher was skeptical

In San Francisco, about a year after my mother died, when I was nine or ten years old and going to the second new school since moving in with my father, I had a desperate crush on a girl named Lisa. She was a year older than me, in the next grade level up (our classrooms were combined). She was pretty, Asian, was popular with a group of friends that would surround her during recesses.

Sociology is a very complex subject. Trying to understand how a person or anything else works is quite difficult. No two people are the same. Life as we know it is very complicated. There are many professions that people go into to find out how life works – how people work.