Personal Narrative-Destroying My Suffering

As the Frost Festival finally drew to a close, the excitement of the frost fae, both royal and non-royal, began to wane as the festivities and parties died down, and the frosty multicolored flags of the various frost fae Clans were taken down and folded neatly for storage until the next Festival. I’d been working as a Frost Guardian for over twelve hours protecting the princess of the Snowflake clan, and, even though I thought that I was going to be beyond exhausted and more than ready for bed, I still felt strangely wide awake and even a little buzzed with adrenaline, like I’d gotten energy from the remnants of the festivities that had happened around me and the fact that I was finally training in the real world as a Guardian.

At the time I entered the room, my world collapsed. My mother was lying on the bed and crying after the surgery. I was only 10 years old but I knew what cancer means. So overwhelmed by my fear and unrest, I lost hope for my life: how can a ten-year-old boy live without his mom?

It was record breaking temperatures on this July 4th day. Red, white, and blue filling up the stands. Fans and umbrellas protecting spectators from the heat of the sun. It was about game time and I was getting ready to take the field for the last home game. Butterflies in my stomach, but I had to tell myself “it’s just another game”. Even though in my heart I knew it was not just another game.

One day i was simply raking leaves in my yard and tired as i was i leaned on a tree. Then i felt something moving i turned around and it was nothing. I continued to lean and felt it again and again, the moving went faster and and always stopped when i turned. I ignored it and then continued until suddenly…i fell into a pit. There was a statue with a pamphlet in the pedestal that opened up saying that every 613 years a child of prophecy will be born and carry on the will of Hades. I was horrified. It said that you have 2 hours to steal souls and drain the life out of every human with a transformation formula on them. I thought what a transformation formula but i had no idea. I looked at the statue and kicked it several times, but then another pamphlet appeared showing

The phrase ‘history repeats itself’ is applicable only to learning from experiences. Mass genocide, world revolt, corruption on a governmental scale. Such things are put away from us now aren’t they? Surely no one does those things anymore, right? Such was the argument of my sheltered mind. After all, to awaken those haunts from the past, would be a regression of the now established world would it not? It would be horrendous, it would be uncivil. Funnily enough, none of these rationales meant anything as I witnessed these monsters of mass genocide, revolt and the like, who I had long thought had been laid to rest, ravage and in a bloodthirsty massacre steal the lives of 34 minors.

Being woken up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping is not a good thing. Neither is being told that you had to go to the hospital right then is not so good either. The year was 2008. I, an eight-year-old at the time, was woken up at around the prime time of eleven o’clock at night to only be stuffed into a car and driven to the hospital. Don’t worry, it wasn’t because I was in a life or death situation that I needed to go, it was because my mom was in that predicament.

Bare with me for another blog post about volleyball. This weekend was the Badger Region Volleyball Tournament, which my team participated in. When I walked into the building, the memories flooded in with scenes from the elevator adventures, cheese fries, and design your own sweatshirts. The first day, my team didn't play up our full potential, with my team only winning one out of three matches; which meant that we didn't place in any of the brackets, meaning zero chance of receiving a medal. However, at the end of the second match, I got switched from being middle all-around to libero ( a position where you only play back row on offense and defense). I guess it's an honor, but it puts a lot of pressure on me by labeling me as the best passer

“Let me tell you something you already know; the world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently, if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s bout how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” That inspiring quote was announced by Rocky Balboa, Actor: Sylvester Stallone, in his movie. Rocky is a perfect example of adversity, he faced it with his boxing career.

Lurid means vivid and unpleasant. Lurid was a word on a weekly vocab quiz I took the week I first visited Simon’s Rock. Lurid was a word used casually (and properly) in a passionate discussion about a Rococo painting, The Swing, in an art history class at Simon’s Rock.

The "it came as a revelation to me" befuddles me, and perhaps on the grounds that I have never encountered this, so I'm speculating this fair appears unexpectedly and blast, the data just flies in your mind. That is my wild figure. How might you depict enlighten individuals regarding this data given? On the off chance that a disclosure came to somebody in this advanced age, they would conceivably be called insane, however then you need to ponder, would they say they are insane or would they say they are being honest? I've met what's coming to me of insane and a portion of the stuff they say may sound insane, yet it truly makes them

Growing up, I lived in a small community where poverty was an issue. Within the low-income community, drugs, crime, and education lacked. There were many people unemployed, lacked health coverage, and financially unstable. One of the major issues in the community was the use of illegal drugs. The substances damaged people's lives, due to addiction. The drugs included heroin, marijuana, and cocaine; the list can go on and on. From future football players to basketball players, I watched all these superstars turned their lives upside down. I watched players that had the privilege to play for top universities lose their scholarships because of the use of illegal substances. I even watched one of my own, my uncle.

Insanity. It seems like everyone in the world that we live on is in some way going insane. People say that global warming, politics, terrorist attacks, money the list goes on and on, they say that those are real problems. But they aren’t actually problems the real world problem is the world itself. I never really noticed the issue until Rosalie was sent to be surrounded by the particularly picked insane people. It isn’t fair. It isn’t her fault. If only I knew what the “plan” was I could’ve saved her from making a mistake. It’s too late for that now. Now she spends her days in a padded cell with her arms crossed and safely secured. It should’ve been me in there, not her. It’s my fault. I have to save her.

The patient Mr. John is a 57-year-old man with aggressive prostate malignancy who is took care of by the nursing team in the oncology ward of a general hospital in Colombo, Sri Lanka. Mr. John has diagnosed with prostate cancer six years ago. However, he refused medical and surgical treatment at the time, as he is unhappy about his life. He chose to seek other treatment and did not follow up with the urologist over that six-year period. Mr. John has now presented with anemia and hypo protein-anemia. After numerous diagnostic tests over a period it has discovered that the cancer had metastasized to his bones, it had spread locally to his lymph nodes and the primary tumor was invading the bladder and partially obstructing the left kidney. Mr. John had frequent admissions over a three-month period for different reasons.

maybe it was the way your eyes could make my blood freeze in the most terrifying but also most beautiful way ever.

I hate when I get that feeling that desire that need to hide. To find a small inconspicuous hole and crawl inside it to try and make myself small. To become one with the hole so as to dissappear and escape what make makes me feel this way timid and scared. It's an impulse a need in the moment so as to protect myself. Yet I hate that feeling that desire that need to protect. I feel weak and shameful and it makes me feel that much worse when I welcome the feeling with open arms. Ready to embrace it. I see this instinct as a appendix unneeded. Why couldn't I have the instinct to face a fear, problem ,person or situation head on. With cunning and amazing intellectual understanding. Yet I don't my brain shuts down going into panic