Personal Narrative

People everywhere go through a lot of different experiences in their lives. These experiences could vary in importance, but all such experiences take a part in shaping a person. In my life I have gone through many experiences which shaped me in certain ways: some good, some bad. The experience I wish to reflect upon is one which taught me a good lesson. This experience which I would like to reflect on, taught me patience and gave me a lesson which I was able to learn from.

It was just the beginning of February. The winter cold, brutal, and yet normal for the people living in Michigan. My best friend Brian, his uncle Craig, and I were driving back together from Craig’s up north cottage. Brian and I were riding passenger with Craig in his Chevy Silverado pick-up. We were coming back from the annual Perchville Polar Bear Plunge that took place in Tawas, Michigan. A lot was on my mind since it was the second semester of my senior year, and graduation was right around the corner. I had no idea what I wanted to do, or where my future would take me.

About two years ago, my husband, my two sons and I lived in a small village, where we had our own farm that we took care of. My husband was a farmer, and we provided food that was sold to gain money. Our farm was prospering, and it did not seem like anything bad would happen. We spoke too soon. It was a tragic day; our crops wilted and died due to the dry, hot climate. With the loss of our crops, we could not make profit, so we did not have enough money to pay for our farm. In the end we lost everything. Luckily, we had enough money to rent land. This certainly was not the life I wanted for my family.

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

I headed out first,swimming my way back onto land,I screamed as I felt myself get scooped out of the sea by some men and women,scared that the man in the blue car had returned. But these men and women were dressed in hazmat suits but without their helmets on. They looked over me as if they were scientists,asking me and each other several questions. I couldn't muster out any words, I was terrified, I wanted Craig to help me but I was terrified of what they would do to him. This part of the dream is very spacey and is chopped up. I hardly remember most of it. From what I can remember after they’ve finished me out of the water. They place me in this building, this building filled with children. They all looked genetically modified or something,

I wish I could tell you all of this in person but I know if I try I’ll probably get very nervous and forget some small details that I would really like to tell you, and those are probably the most important to me. I saw you for the first time on February 23 at the valentines party, and that was such a fortunate thing to go to because I was able to get free food, have a good time, see old friends I haven’t seen since last semester, but most importantly I was able to see you. I didn’t know who you were at the time, but I knew you were like a very sweet, funny, caring, smart, and very beautiful just from your appearance. I first noticed you when you sat across from me when we were playing charades, and that’s when I knew that I wanted to get to

I slowly sit up and rest my back against the headboard of my old bed. Closing my eyes and taking everything in that has happen since I’ve woken up. Being in my old room, brings back a lot of memories of when I used to live here as a child. Moments with James, moments with my mum. I let a tear escape my eye, quickly wiping it away. I can’t let it get to me anymore. It was five years ago. A few more tears escape and I go to whip it away again when light bounces off the scars on my arm.

My body was shivering with fright my mind had so many questions. The weird thing is that I smelt was something that smells familiar, but I forgot what it was. One thing that I was sure of is that I was moving in car and my feet and arms were strapped down to the seat and my eyes were blinded by a bright light in my eyes. I had a lot a of question in my brain like where am I, have I been kidnapped, and is my family ok. Then I here my father calling me “Zeke, Zeke, Zeke where are you. Then suddenly I can finally see I open my eyes and see Stanley Park it was breath taking it was like seeing the northern lights. My dad finally untied me from the seat I shook my head because there was so much fog I could barley see anything I thought I had brain

“You can have it if you want,” my father said, pointing to the Playboy magazine on his desk. His index finger interrupted my line of vision, and my eyes shot up to make contact with his.

I look around the dark room, watching my allies. One sharpening one of his swords, another punching a bag of sand. And another boy in the window looking down over the city. I sit in the corner, just watching them. All I can think is, how did I become a fugitive of the entire country? I stand up and wander to the door.

It was late at night around 10:00pm, I had just got out of school. It’s dark and windy, and there is no soul in sight. I was scared out of my mind I usually get out of school at 7:00pm but tonight I stayed back for extra credit, and all of a sudden when I looked at my watch I noticed it was 10:00pm. I frantically walked to the bus stop which was a few blocks from my school in hopes that I could catch a bus ride home, but there was no bus. Then I decided I should walk to my boyfriend’s house and see if he could walk me to my house witch was a scarier neighborhood then his. But when I got there he wasn’t at home he was still downtown at his dad’s store. Now I’m all alone, and something in my gut told me that tonight wasn’t going to end well for me.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ropable about leaving my home, my friends, and my school. Ever since Mum left us, Dad’s heart bad been set on leaving. Dad’s new life moto: “We have to leave our memories in the past, move on, and start a new chapter in our lives.” Anything I said didn’t even come into consideration. I had just finished the most stressful year of my life, and was finally on the right track, but now the track is coming to a wobbly end.

The doubts I had turned out to just be thoughts in my head. This warm, sunny morning I could feel my heart beating through my chest. My hand was shaking as I opened the door of my mom’s car. I felt like time was going by slow and I wanted everything to be over. I arrived and it didn’t seem much like a school. A building with not many windows, doors, and no kind of sign it was a school. A gray striped building that kind of looked like a warehouse. The parking lot was massive; it was big compared to the school. As I walked in through the main entrance, I felt this was already a miserable start to the worst school year in my life. I got to my class and sat down. I felt people’s eyes staring at me strangely. The situation already felt awkward

I had never felt so relieved once I was outside of that house. It almost felt as good as the Saturday the week of my high school graduation. The feeling of some great weight being lifted off my shoulders when I sat in my seat on the bus on my way out of my home state to college was so overwhelming that I had cried. Some of those on the bus spoke soothing words to me, but for the wrong reason. I wasn't crying because I was leaving home, I was crying because I was happy to be able to escape and unbelievable horrendous daily existence. My nightmare had finally come to an end, so I had believed.

It was a chilly morning down in the little town of Nelsonville, Ohio. The light of the day slowly overwhelming the darkness of the night. I am sitting by the window of a restaurant I never knew would mean so much to me. With a man who I never thought would leave. At the same time I was baffled by the brightness of the morning sun. This day I still come back to if I need a moment of silence or a burst of inspiration, but I never knew a memory could hurt and have a amazing sensation at the same time.