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.

My most memorable moment of my life so far was the death of my grandfather about 4 years ago. My Grandfather was 78 and was my number one supporter of all my decisions. He did not care what I did, as long as i was happy with what i chose to do. Every time i walked into his house he would say (Whats up merdal). To this day I still don’t know what that means or why he gave it me, I just thought it was cool.

Since coming to America, I have moved to an ample amount of places because my father’s job concerns. I changed school frequently and in each new school I was never greeted with a warm welcome. With one glance my classmates saw I was different from them. I was often bullied and teased because of my racial difference from my classmates, from these experiences I became a quiet and docile girl. This way I thought I would not get in anyone’s way. I had closed up in the world in front of me; I never expressed my own opinions and always agreed with the majority. However secretly inside of me, I was frustrated not being able to express myself and yet I was unable to change. I craved to be what I was in the inside to be on the outside. Still by

I started playing volleyball in 3rd grade. My dad wanted me to play because my sister also played. It was my first day being a 3rd grader and my dad told me I should get into volleyball. From there I wasn’t sure if I wanted to play. I watched my sister play every game and it looked like it was hard so I didn’t think I could do it.

I felt the tears push against my eyelids, threatening to spill onto my cheeks. The deep breaths that were supposed to calm me down were not working in the slightest and I wanted nothing more than to hide under something, anything, and avoid all responsibility for a while. Through blurred vision, I could barely make out the shocked faces of my friends. This was not supposed to happen here, in the middle of physics class. This was the kind of thing that a person should save for being safely hidden behind closed doors. I glanced down at the four little words on my phone and lost it. The floodgates opened. Hot tears turned my face into a network of rivers and lakes. The saltwater filled the dark bags under my eyes and turned them into oceans. Rivulets

Ever since I came to the United States in 2004, I felt different and I still do now. I wasn’t raised the materialistic type because I could barely get my basic needs in Thailand. I wasn’t what anyone would called “a modern guy”. Being raised with little things to cherish, I grew up to be satisfy in what I have. Although, it seems that with my Thailand clothing and mushroom haircut, I wasn’t the best kid to fit in. I was stereotype as an HTT otherwise known as Hmong kids from Thailand. My intellectual capacity and talent were judge by the other Hmong kids around me. I apparently was destine to fail my educational career and live with my parents till I’m old and grumpy. I knew that I wasn’t smart or talented, but I wanted to prove them wrong.

Like the beginning of every good soap opera, everything was normal in the beginning. I lived with my mom and it had just been us for my entire life. My mom had began to see a man. As it turns out, this man would take our happy and simple world and flip it upside down.

I do not remember much from middle school; however I do recall having trouble fitting in and making friends. For the Central Bucks School District, seventh grade marks the beginning of middle school. My awkward 13-year-old self, with bright blue hair, was immersed in a pool of people at Holicong Middle School I had never met before. I had spent the past seven years with the same people and now they were mixed in with this monstrous crowd of new people, forcing me to make new friends. I was not a normal kid by society’s standards, and I still am a quirky kid, but at that point in my life I was still trying to figure out how to behave in a social setting. That was not a simple task for me; I was a hyperactive kid who dyed her hair a plethora of colors. To make matters worse, I was not mixed in with a pleasant group of people.

Abruptly awoken at the break of dawn towards the end of the hot season, my owner swiftly moves across the house gathering the essentials needed for his rigorous day. My owner’s name is Jordan and he is a six foot tall senior in high school. Jordan rises early many days and decides to sleep later on other days, which is quite confusing at times. Jordan does not always awaken me with all the commotion emitting from him, which is peculiar because Jordan sounds like a herd of elephants every morning. If Jordan’s loud and excessive noises do not rouse me the commotion of the other family members usually does the trick. After the tumultuous family dispatches I am left alone in a house of seldom activities for an animal. My day is spent waiting for Jordan, or any other human, to return home and grant me with their presence.

I got off the plane, my uncle and 4 cousins picked me up from the Denver International Airport. I stepped outside and remember how beautiful it was. We got into the car and they drove us to Breckenridge, Colorado. When we rented a mansion for the vacation and when we got there we made posters saying “Happy 50th Anniversary Grammy and Bumpa!” My brother, 6 cousins, and I stood out in the driveway holding up the posters when my aunt drove them in! My grandparents had no idea why they were coming out to Colorado until they got to the house. They got out the car and started crying. The next day we went hiking, when we got to Mount Cameron it started downpouring with hail so we had to turn around and go back to the house. We all turned around and

You can never judge a book by it's cover, sometimes that book may be pretty on the outside but it could be broken on the inside like a mirror that was dropped with pieces that could not be put back together. I come from a family where we were once a “Family” but we let differences brake us. At this point in my life I was eleven years old learning to be independent,learning how to handle school on my own, not letting others define me as a person or who i was going to become. Again I was only eleven, a lot of eleven year olds i know today didn't do the things I did as a kid. Now there was a time in my life where i played with barbies and had a favorite blanket that i could not let go of. Every family goes through things there is no such thing as perfect.

I went to Fordham Preparatory School a private, Jesuit, all-male high school located in the Bronx, New York City. My school has many aspects that make me like and dislike it. I had to wear a suit jacket, tie, and dress pants as my uniform which I did not like. Not being able to choose what I wanted to wear was frustrating and I felt very restricted. I also felt part of a set wearing the same clothes as everyone else. I am very glad that I am able to wear what I wish in college.

As a ten year-old, I became an adult. Sadly, this is a bit young to realize the fear and responsibility that adulthood can carry, but it was revealed to me at such a young age because of my family’s incompetence and neglect.

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

Carl had an average life. He had a decent paying job and a decent house but by far the best thing he had was his beautiful wife Christine . Christine loved jewelry. Carl liked cars, his most prized possession is his sports car. It was going to be their anniversary in a couple weeks. Carl was going to give Christine a gold and diamond encrusted jewelry box for all her jewelry. he has been saving up for years now and now is the perfect time.