Personal Narrative-Column

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.

I have lived in only one location my entire life: Edwardsville, Illinois. A peripheral suburb of St. Louis, it stands as the rare oasis of people in a desert of corn, pinned in its own personal bubble. Due to this blend of time and isolation, I developed a natural familiarity with my hometown. But, throughout my childhood, I longed to break free from the confines of the bubble and venture outward. However, this changed last summer, as I walked through Richards Brickyard, our family heirloom, that my great-grandfather, Benjamin Richards, founded over 120 years ago. I felt these childlike sentiments slip away. The bubble that had surrounded me for so long began to vanish, and the picture that it had been obscuring was slowly revealed.

I'VE BEEN SUPER EXCITED FOR THIS TO COME OUT!!! For those who don't know this is one of my anticipated of the year (you can check out my list if you haven't already, I posted it in September). But since this is the last book of the series I don't feel the need to write a very long non-spoiler review. I won't write the reasons why I love this series so much in my Top Ten list if you would like to check that. The series starts out in this futuristic world where a young girl named Cinder catches the eye of Prince Kai, the future empire of the Common Wealth. The only problem is that she's a cyborg, part-human part-robot. For this book, I would give it about a 4/5 stars. I was definitely a great read but it wasn't my favorite book in the series, I honestly felt that Cress was the best book, then

P: Timothy will recognize existing feelings of anger, discover the origins of such feelings, and find alternative ways to ease, express, and resolve such feelings.

I peeked around the corner, only to see him with his left hand in front of his eyes while his right arm was stretched out in front of him to give me the towel. I grabbed the material out of his shaking hand and wrapped it around my damp body. “You can look, Stiles.” I giggled and he slowly removed his hand from his eyes. “Holy… I- uh, I mean, I should go.” He pointed his finger at the door and stumbled towards the door. “Wait!” I walked towards him and pecked his cheek. “Thank you, for helping me.” He looked down, trying to hide his blush and began fumbling with his hands. “I'll do anything for someone like you- I mean, yeah, bye.” He stuttered before leaving the room. I laughed before putting my clothes on. For some reason I couldn't wipe the smile off my

That was a lot of money, and I didnt want to let Tony down so I got in the car and started to drive. As I drove the road was empty. I had confidence I was not going o get caught. It was a slightly wormer day out witch might have been because the sun was out. I had the windows down and was blaring music just trying to enjoy life when a cop pulls out behind me.

The Meriam-Webster dictionary defines a cheerleader as a person who is a member of a group (typically a group of young women) who shout out special songs or chants to encourage the team and entertain the crowd during a game in sports like American football and basketball. This definition described my involvement itself in my beloved sport, but it also explains who I am as a whole person. In my life, I am a cheerleader whether I am on the sidelines under the Friday night lights, or off the field when it comes to being a cheerleader for my family and companions. At a young age, it was clear to me that support was something needed by everyone, whether they wanted to accept it or not. However, before you cheer on anyone

I turn around and notice a presence appearing from the rocky crevices that lead to the garden. Surely, this must be the hero that legend spoke of. A man of great strength and willpower, one with the fighting force of a thous-

Well today is finally here. My final day of my eighth grade year. I've grown up so fast since I moved to Peersville. A few weeks ago we had the high school cheer tryouts and I am officially going to be a high school cheer leader. Peersville is a small town. Not much to do here just a pool, bowling alley and a few parks. Oh, by the way I'm Faith Flintwood, your average middle schooler. I'm 14 years old and just beginning my summer.

"Ah America. What joy and what rapture. See here the land of opportunity. A land where a poor Irish immigrant can lay claims to greatness. Sure as God himself made this country. This God's country says I." Column McTierany strode down the lines of the foundry. Dressed to impress he wore a pressed suit of dark grey silk, ever so faintly striped with dark blue. His button up shirt beneath starched to the rigidity of the steel his mills produce. A green silk tie a splash of color to his ensemble matching perfectly with his twinkling eyes. Hair the color of furnace flames was cropped short and slicked back with lavender scented pomade. Not that one could smell it over the oppressive odor of industry. Behind his his daughter smiled. No man could be more devoted to the land that had given him everything. She was the spitting image of her father. A cloud of red curls bounced and swayed with every jaunty stride. Her eyes, green as an Irish hillside, sparkled in a face as pale as fresh milk. The mill was hotter than hell, the oppressive

People often think of language as a connector, something that brings people together by helping them share experiences, feelings, ideas, etc. We, however, are interested in how language sets people apart. Start with the peculiarities of your own personal language—the voice you use when speaking most intimately to yourself, the vocabulary that spills out when you're startled, or special phrases and gestures that no one else seems to use or even understand—and tell us how your language makes you unique. You may want to think about subtle riffs or idiosyncrasies based on cadence, rhythm, rhyme, or (mis)pronunciation.

It was a Saturday morning and I woke up earlier than usual. It was 8:00 and I normally wake up

On June 10th 2016 I woke up and went out to start my day. Since it was summer I usually spend my days swimming or at home playing in the yard. That day I decided it was a perfect day with excellent weather to spend my day at the Plymouth pool. It was a great day to lay out in the sun and get a sun kissed glow, but most of all to hangout with my friends. I would usually spend my whole day from noon to 6:00pm at the pool, but this time by surprise my mom picked me up early and told me my brother and his girlfriend Renee wanted to take me out to Chicago with them. I was told I was going to go to a carnival or out to eat in Chicago, but my mom knew all along where I was going. She told me to find a shirt with dark blue on it but I never knew

Staring at blank space in the dark. Tucked under my covers, tear stains on my face. Red as a tomato itself. I couldn't comprehend why was I was being punished. I did everything right, everything that you could think of. Mistakes were made here and there but as for myself, I was a good person. I know that everyone's worried. Till this day I cried and cried every night to a cold empty pillow where he use to lay wondering how. Memories floods my mind with every object that comes across my sight. Reminiscing as if it were yesterday. In my 2014 Chevy Malibu laughing, enjoying what God created. I smiled, a smile that stretched across my face as the cool autumn breeze kissed my skin. Staring at the most beautiful human being I could ever imagine.

The training ground was outside and depending on what we needed it for was able to instantly change its terrain. I walked over to a nearby basket and pulled out an old wooden bow and a quiver full of arrows.