Personal Narrative

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.

Sitting in a hospital waiting room, alone, afraid; and waiting for the news; would she be ok? Would she even survive? My nerves were out of control; my heart was beating through my chest, you could literally see it thumping through my top. The beads of sweat racing down my forehead, as if I was in the middle of the Safari dessert. I have been an athlete my entire life, yet I have never felt so physically drained. I look around, my eyes opening, then closing; as if I am coming in and out of consciousness, then suddenly echoed words begin to ring around my ear drums….” Sir…...sir, can you hear me? Sir please, we need to know what happened. We need to know what happened to her. Maybe my motionless state showed my

Many years have gone by with much contemplation about what I wanted to do when I grew up. Due to my age, that vision has looked like many different professions. I started out with dreams of having an Army career starting at the age of 18, to have that quickly change when my new husband and I found we were expecting our first child. When our commanding officer found out, he spoke to us and explained that both of us could be sent to war at the same time. Rather than deciding which family member to give custody of our child to in that situation, I decided to depart from the Army and start my new journey as “mom”.

It was a hot sweltering Saturday in August, August twenty-seventh to be exact. I remember waking up that morning with my stomach in knots we were to play the Hot Springs Bison. Sure, I played JV last year and practiced all summer with the first team but now all the hot god awful gut ranching two a day practices were about to pay off.

Every student is excited when school starts. New classes, new backpacks, new clothes, and seeing all your friends is a part of this excitement. The first few weeks are new; no homework, plenty of free time, etc. But after two or three months, school isn’t cool anymore. The homework piles up, the tests are being printed, but how much stress can you take before it’s too much?

‘’I was on my way to back to school night I was extremely nervous to meet my teacher and when I got there I heard Andrew then I turned around and…’’ One time when I was in second grade I was on my way to back to school night I went to meet my teacher her name was Ms. Pepler. She was nice at helping me put my stuff in my desk but I thought she would be meaner in the school year so when me and my mom got back in the car I said ‘’I think Ms. pepler is going to be mean this year.’’ My mom said ‘’ she seemed really nice at back to school night’’ then I said maybe you're right.’’ Now it is the first day of school and I was nervous because I thought I had a mean teacher and I didn't have any friends it was just me and my cousin. The first day of

On June 10th 2016 I woke up and went out to start my day. Since it was summer I usually spend my days swimming or at home playing in the yard. That day I decided it was a perfect day with excellent weather to spend my day at the Plymouth pool. It was a great day to lay out in the sun and get a sun kissed glow, but most of all to hangout with my friends. I would usually spend my whole day from noon to 6:00pm at the pool, but this time by surprise my mom picked me up early and told me my brother and his girlfriend Renee wanted to take me out to Chicago with them. I was told I was going to go to a carnival or out to eat in Chicago, but my mom knew all along where I was going. She told me to find a shirt with dark blue on it but I never knew

It was one of those oddities; though identical twins, they had celebrated different birthdays: first, Molly, born on April 1, 1972, at 11:47 PM, and second came Megan on April 2 at 12:17 AM. Their parents, Meryl and Bill, thought it best that the twins celebrate on their own days and had always held separate parties for them. Bill adored “his girls,” and Megan was probably his favorite. A parent shouldn’t have a favorite child, yet, they all, more than likely do. It’s either the one that they’ve carried some sort of guilt about, for one reason or another, or the one that highly reminds them of themselves. In Bill’s case, it was definitely Megan, he enjoyed her spunk (a quality he thought missing from the other two children). It was his attraction to her high-spiritedness that had Meryl, on countless occasions telling him; “You are letting her get away with

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.

I grab the handle on the door frame, and pull my five foot self up into the driver's seat. Leaving the door open, I turn the key in the ignition. Doesn't start. "Try again." Daryl hooks his hand around the top of the door. I nod and twist the key forward again. This time it clicks for a few seconds, then starts right up. The purring of the engine enlightened the mood a bit. Tara jogs over to Rick. "The van works." "We have our transportation." Rick nods before signaling the rest over. "Want to get out of the city before dark, we'll find a spot in the woods to settle for the night and go from there." I made sure I was in the same car as Daryl, even if it meant not being in the same as Carl, but I need to comfort one of the biggest father figures

I was designated out of necessity. My older brother was sent to prison the year before she was diagnosed. My twin sister was married at the time with three small children and my younger brother was only 16 years old. Therefore, I tried to become everything that she needed. Helping her through her battle would prove to me that life is too short to not pursue my dreams.

Everyone remembers a time in their lives when their mom came through and saved the day. Mine happened to happen at 1:30 AM on a Saturday morning. To fully understand the story I’ll give some background.

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 know there is no excuse for my poor academic performance this past quarter, however even with that in mind, I ask for one more opportunity. I am aware that I am just one of thousands of students in the university and, like all the other students here, am here because I want to make something of myself. I am not asking of another opportunity solely because it is an option for me at this point in time, I’m asking because I know that I am capable of performing a lot better than what I did last quarter. My performance was a demonstration of a naïve nineteen-year-old girl. I was an intern with College Works Painting (CWP) as of spring break this year. This internship devoured about twenty to thirty hours of my week and included all weekends of

The sound of cameras shuttering people yelling and heels clanking against the school floor, my principal yelling “No more questions!”  Approached my classroom door. I speculated what could have happened, did someone make a scientific breakthrough, did someone get hurt? I could see similar thoughts rushing through the heads of my peers to. I live in a small town in New York called Arnal, here local news is very popular among the town's residents. Lots of intriguing things take place here, but I have never see the reporters so intrusive, they were eager to get there question answered. The bell rung and snapped me out of my trans, my class always goes to the library to eat lunch, this lunch I had plans of my own. I tiptoed to the spot in which I heard the noises stop, there stood Principal Heid whispering with his lawyer.