Personal Narrative : ' Cynic, N.

It was near the end of my 8th grade school year, about 2 month away from graduation, when something I never expected to happen actually happened. This event really changed my life forever and shaped me into who I am as a person today. I had just arrived at my house after school when my parents received a call that my grandma was ill and that we should come down to check on her. As we rushed down to my grandparents house, my family was deeply concerned about what may have happened because my grandma had never really had many health issues before this. As we arrived at their house and walked through the door, we were greeted with the sight of my grandma sitting in a chair with a blanket around her while she was sleeping. My family’s first reaction

I love living in a small town, it gives me a sense of guaranteed safety and simplicity.

Education has always been an important foundation upon which my family encouraged the most. Not just the education pertaining to structured schooling, but the fundamentals in life that require you to interact in society and be a part of something bigger than yourself. They demonstrated how to commit to values such as responsibility, motivation, and consistency; and, how to be open-minded and passionate about the things you believe in. These things all required a sacrifice in various ways. They always stress how “sometimes you need to give up something to get ahead, or how sometimes sacrificing the familiar and what you expect from yourself to get the results that you are seeking in the long run.”

On 10/02/2017 at 0017 hours, units were dispatched to 627 Central Ave for a report of a Domestic involving a knife. I responded at emergency speed, priority one. Upon my arrival, I located the accused female in the bathroom.

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.

On the 23rd of January in the year 2003, at around 1:00 in the afternoon at Kaiser Permanente San Francisco, I was born into the world. My parents, Frederick Torres Nangca and Rowena Aldana Nangca, and I first settled in my grandparent’s studio as a child. The space was small but open for the most part. From what I remember, the wall that was on the same side as the door had a drawer beneath the television where they kept most of their belongings. Just across from that was a blue couch that they had pushed up against the ten windowed wall. Next to the couch was a smaller beige dresser that held my grandfather’s extra clothes along with a few of my grandmother’s accessories. My grandmother and grandfather often held novenas and parties in honor of God.

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

I’ve been trudging along for what seems like hours. I lost count of my steps sometime after my car broke down. When I look around all I see is an almost tangible grey curtain hiding everything except for a small segment of the highway. As I look forward the dark grey of the asphalt blends into the fog. I have no Idea what time it is when the fog rolled in my phone died. Without a clock, any length of time seems to go on forever, especially when the sun is hiding behind the fog. I just something I don’t understand about my situation, there has been no change in light since the fog rolled in. Same brightness the whole time. It’s almost like it’s not that I can’t tell time is passing. It’s that time isn’t passing, but that’s impossible.

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

One day, after school on May 31st, my mom and dad sat my sister and I down in the living room. At first I thought “ what's going on, who passed away, did something bad happened, what'd I do wrong” not until my Mom finally said, “Girls, we’re taking a trip to West Palm Beach Florida this week.”

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

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.

I many great times at my house. When I am at home I do many things one of the things I like to do the most is play video games other on my PlayStation or on my computer. When I play on my computer there is this program called steam. Steam is an interactive game store that has all of your favorite games. Depending on how good your computer is depends which games you will be able to play. You can build your own computer just for gaming. This peticular task could be very difficult depending on what you know. The most I important things you will need is a way to power the computer a cooling system, processors, graphics card and other important items. You could just buy a computer meant for gaming but sometimes those are overpriced and don't have very good graphics cards and processors. When console gaming there is a big difference becuase all you need to do is go to your local GameStop and pick up some games to play with your brand new console and play with some friends or play singelepalyer.

My mother, who is 41 years of age, was born on July 8th. She had one child before she met my dad, Na’Stassiya. She is the oldest child out of three from my grandmother. Unfortunately, I don’t know much about this grandfather’s other children either. She didn’t live with her mom, because she was raised by her grandmother. The first time we

bbI walked down to the beach by myself along side of a desolate road. The wind tossed the palm trees and my long hair in every direction. The sun was setting and the sky turned sort of a pink and lavender color which reminded me of my mother. Pebbles on the ground tickled the bottoms of my bare feet as I pondered about her. How her favorite color was lavender, how her hair always smelled like the pink tropical flowers in our front yard, how she always smiled and appreciated the rain for its beauty (even if it meant we couldn’t go surfing), she had dark olive skin with freckles across her nose and top of her cheekbones. Green eyes and a beautiful wide smile that always appeared to be on her face even when times were rough. I didn’t really look my mom, I had freckles like her but my face structure was totally different. Actually I looked like no one in my family. In fact, at family gatherings and reunions I was often asked if I was a good family friend. Even if people thought I looked a little bit like my mom (because of the freckles) they wouldn’t tell me because they were constantly trying to avoid an awkward conversation.