Personal Narrative-Dandelion Girl

Bethany Hamilton screamed "I got attached by a shark". Her friend Alana, her dad Holt, and her brother Bryan rushed to get to her. Holt got there first, staring at her arm being gone, but stops because he knew if he didin't hurry she would die of blood loss. Bryan called 911, and waited for the ambulance. When the ambulance came, they rushed to get her to the hospital. A couple of hours went by, Bethany got out of surgery. After all the visits and stuff she asked when can she get back in the water? The Doctor said it would take a long time for her to get use to having only one arm. The doctor talked a lot but all she could think of was the ocean. Thats when she made a promise to be on a surfboard by Thanksgiving Day.

Painted Girl put her bags down on the counter, tired from a long day at work. Tizio was great. He’d taken her to his uncles place and they’d spent a wonderful day ordering things from his antique store. She looked around the kitchen. Chinese takeout littered the countertop but no one had cleaned up. She picked up a note.

The sun began to creep up behind the towering pine trees as I sip on my torrid coffee. I glance at my watch which reads 5:45 am, I gather my tackle box that's overflows with hooks and line and stick in underneath the damp boat seat. The water glistens in the morning sunlight, I aboard the scent of pine needles which is always prominent the crisp air of Northern Wisconsin.

There are millions of people in the military and I have always been fascinated by the concept of it. The interesting part was never the war, they were intriguing, but there is too much death involved. I am fascinated by the concept of being a part of something bigger than you in addition to being one big family fighting for the same thing. I believe it all started with the two thousand one movie Pearl Harbor, no matter what they were facing in their personal life they all worked together. I never really knew anyone involved in the military, but that all changed when my oldest brother joined The United States Air Force.

“All you gotta do is open yo legs!” Said the boy I had only seen a couple of times around school before. I felt like my life was flashing before my eyes. I was hoping for this moment to end. The smell of weed and cigs filled the air. It was a beautiful day outside and yet all I could hear was cars and buses rushing by. This is how I knew no one would hear my cry for help.

I send my mom a quick text to let her know where I am going, and we are off in five cars lined up like a Mardi Gras parade. I have a bad feeling about this. I have never been to Micah’s grandmother’s house, and I am totally alone in the last car. If I lose them at a turn or a light, I might never find my way, but I have no other choice but to drive myself because of my early curfew. My friend, Ben, is in the car in front of me, and I am staying close behind him, so I don’t get lost.

"Junior year is the year you find out who you really are." That's what I have heard from previous juniors in my two years of high school. I had started to believe they were right but didn't want to settle with it until it happened to me. I have been friends with Ally since we were pre-school age. We had briefly lost touch for the past few years but began to reconnect once we had more classes together. After her first day of softball practice, Ally came to me and said, "Kelsey, the new girl on the softball team, is just so annoying. Like, I can't stand her."

As he shoved his luggage into his overhead bin, he took a seat with exhaustion. Remembering all the memories they've had at their grandparents house, when they were little. Now today would be the day to relive all those fun and exciting memories, thought Jamerson. Jamerson knew he could be able to show his Grandma Judy and Grandpa Jona, all the things he's learned from his practices in football, soccer, and basketball. Kaitlyn had finally gotten a flight attendant to come over by her. Kaitlyn began to speak, “Mrs, by any chance do you have wifi on here I could connect to?” The flight attendant Carrie had said, “I'm sorry ma'am we don't, is there anything else I can get you?” Kaitlyn didn't say anything, she sat there in disappointment. Ugh,

Ten years pass. He can still recall the crème blush coloring of his lover’s cheeks and the tapered point of her nose. He can recall the ringing vibrato of her laugh and the way a shrill, yet violent sneeze would wrack her body. Fifty years. He knows she had auburn hair and olive skin, but what color were her eyes? Gray like an oncoming tempest or a deep ochre married with lighter hues. One hundred years. His grandchildren stamp their fingerprints on the glass of the frame with her photo in it. Their mother wrenches the portrait out of their pudgy hands with a sigh, lost in the memories of twirling around on the kitchen tile to the soundtrack of the woman’s hums. Two hundred years. Her image is engulfed in the flames of a roaring blaze and lost

Next, a yellow cocktail music bursts as the cheers of people raised up into the air again. The crowd moved more swiftly around the garden, flowing, dissolving, and merging back into the same form again. The sky slowly turned orange –the sun was heavily sinking into the horizon – and Tom’s boutonniere enhanced its bloodiness and Daisy’s white dress dyed in an elegant yellow. As Tom looked over the crowd, all the immaculate white dresses that were dancing on the grass like fairies were soaked in the sunlight, each one in vivid, but lusterless colours. However, there was a ray of light that caught Tom’s eyes as he overlooked on the people. It was one of the house maids, sweeping the fallen leaves as her pale ring-finger gleamed a dull reflection of the sunshine. She was a woman with a roundish figure, probably in her early thirties. There were no traces of beauty in her appearances like Mary Pickford or a fashionable stylishness like Pola Nergi, but there was an immediate vitality that could be percept straightaway, just like Myrtle. No, exactly like Myrtle, Tom thought. There were no specific similarities between them, but Tom felt like a child who found a puzzle piece that he’s been looking for ages, or perhaps a fragment of a story from his favorite child

Vivid smoke softly floats from the brick chimney. As she gazes at the foggy sky through the front window by the fireplace, creases fold beneath her sunburned eyes. Streams of black eyeshadow slowly flow down either golden-brown cheek. It’s mid – September, and she expressed far too many times every little piece of what’s behind her destitute heart. Hannah. That’s her name. Shoulder-length Auburn hair, a beautiful smile with ocean blue eyes and a red rose tattoo on her lower back she received last summer while in New York. It’s visible when earlier during the day she bent over to throw a pile of leaves on Dan, her boyfriend. Hannah is clenching a pencil; her crumpled diary thrown next to her feet captures the deep sentiment she’s without a doubt missed hiding in plain sight.

Today was June 27th, 1913. We all gathered in the town square. My son, Dickie Delacroix, was gathering stones with the other boys. My husband was talking with the other men. I was nervous and anxious because it was the day of the lottery.

Today it was my first day in strawberry and I had high expectation, but it turns out that town really isn't what u think it is. First when we arrived we went to Mr.Barnett store to get Big mas items , T.J had handed Mr.Barrnet the list and he skipped us for a white lady. I was so mad I told him "what are you doing we were here first and you skipped us like twice now" . He told me that" I was something else" , I couldn’t hold in my anger any more so I told him that'' if he even knows what he is". He got mad and then he kicked me out and then that was when I bumped in Miss Lillian. I accidentally bumped into her I and I told her sorry , but that was not in of for her. She said " get on the street and apologize", I refused to because a simple

Strumming the strings of her lute, she entrances the crowded travern. She casts spells upon others, using only her voice and sheer charisma. She smiles, regaling them with tales of brave knights and fearsome dragons, or beautiful maidens with flowing golden hair. Someone tosses a coin at her, and it lands near her dancing feet with a metallic clang. She nods in appreciation, but never misses a note or bar in her song. The bard continues this way until closing time, before rejoining the others in her band of theives. Leaving satisfied that her pockets are heavy with jangling

The red and brown leaves started to fall when Gwen started working at the small campus coffee shop. Gwen was a freshman, but she was so tall, she was mistaken as a senior. Louis was a senior, but people mistook him as a freshman. People labeled him as a short person, but Louis didn’t see it. Louis would argue back that he was five foot nine. Gwen first noticed Louis during her second month working at the shop. She hadn’t had many shifts with Louis, but when she did she enjoyed him. His humor was enough to send her into a fit of giggles. Louis was also very attractive. He wasn’t like most boys on campus. Louis had a curvy body, floppy brown hair, and these blue eyes that held the entire ocean in them. Gwen soon found herself signing up for any shift that Louis signed up for. She was determined to learn more about this boy.