Personal Narrative Essay

Dad came home an hour later and consoled Mom. “Don’t fret, dear,” Those doctors know what’s best. They’ll fix your poppa up good as new in no time.” His tone was smooth and reassuring. But as the light of moon lit his face, I could see the worry etched deep into the wrinkles beside his mouth and eyes.

I did not meet with Pt. , I was paged by Lisa Micciulla, front desk in the emergency room to please come to the ED concerning an "urgent" situation regarding this Pt. When I arrived in the ED registration area an MGH Security personnel stopped me to talk with Pt's daughter, Charlene McDonald. Pt's daughter explained she was not being allowed to see her father, who she understands was brought to MGH for surgery after a fall. Explained to Ms. McDonald, I was aware of Pt having a gaurdian, and that there was a court ordered visitation schedule between Ms. McDonald and Pt. She reported this was an extreme situation and she showed me text messages she had sent to Pt's guardian, Attorney Tine Hajjar. I advised I could not allow Ms. McDonald access to Pt. Based on the order from probate court. Ms. McDonald has visits with Pt on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday 11:00 a.m. -4:00 p.m.

I get to school, still taken aback from the events earlier, and I become more and more apprehensive as the day goes on. The fact that I didn’t get a text from my mom during school, telling me anything about an update on Annie’s situation, worried me, because that meant Annie was either still at the vet or something was really wrong. My brother drove us home from school, oblivious to the fact that Annie had a seizure that morning. The moment I walk in the door to the house and set my stuff down, I see my dad standing in the doorway of the kitchen, with his arms out. I walk towards him, and my mom is there too, and

“Claire, it’s okay,” Mom said as I walked into her bedroom. “Dad has this situation under control. Adam is going to a rehab center when he gets sober.” She beckoned me into a hug.

‘I don’t want to lose her,’ I kept repeating in my head trying to look strong for her. I was trying to not show how scared I was, trying to stop bursting into tears the second I saw her in the state she was. She was so weak and there was nothing I could do to help, except stay out of the doctor’s way. There were nurses and doctors rushing around and giving me a strange look until realization dawned on them. I was at the hospital with my mom around 10 at night, in my pajamas, wondering what was going to happen to her and if she was going to be okay.

My mom had called me three time, each time her voice grew with annoyance. I dropped my Barbie dolls that I had been playing with for the last hour. They dropped to the floor puled on to each other with the same plastic smiles looking up at me. I sped down the stairs like a cheater looking for its prey. When I reached the bottom a whiff of dinner hit my face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It smelled like mashed potatoes and chicken. I resisted the urge to go check and went straight to the living room. The T.V. was on and seemed to have my brother’s full attention. My brother was seven years older than me and we shared a striking resemblance. My mom and dad were next to each other on the opposite end of the couch. My mom had a pillow

On February 13, 2018 at approximately 1803 hours, I was dispatched to the Walmart located at 8701 US HWY 19 Port Richey, FL in reference to a stolen wallet. Upon my arrival, I made contact with the complainant / victim, Delmarie Mangual. Delmarie advised she had been shopping at the store when her light colored rectangular wallet broke off of its strap after she had checked out. She advised the wallet fell without her noticing somewhere between the registers, the general merchandise exit of the store and her vehicle.

This summer, I took a shopping trip to target for a late night snack attack. Before checking out at the cashier stand, I strolled through the one dollar spot. If there’s anything I’ve gained from my mother, it's to never ignore a good deal. It was mainly cheap plastic toys for kids but, yet something caught my eye. A Dr. Seuss section, filled with little metal lunch boxes, pencil pouches, sippy cups, and pencils. From Green eggs with ham to One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. I immediately started sifting through these goodies. Dr. Seuss had been the foundation to my reading journey. Reading all his books since I was six. For Dr. Seuss to fit into my epiphany moment, let me give you a brief but important background to me, Belinda Coronado.

I walked downstairs to wake my dad. He looked at me as if I had two heads on my shoulders. Of course he was looking at me strange. It was three o’clock in the morning. I handed him my phone and said “Mama wants to talk to you, she called me three times”. He felt the same that I did. Something wasn’t right. He jumped up out of his sleep and grabbed the phone. “Hey ma, what’s wrong?” Whatever she said to him confirmed my feelings. Something definitely was wrong. He rushed to put clothing on. I just sat and watched like a silent movie. I didn’t ask what she said because I knew that his mind was racing too much to be able to stop and tell me. He grabbed his Car keys and ran out the door.

Claire and I had just come home after tennis practice. When we walked into our apartment we saw that our mom had made a huge fancy meal for us, and I had a small feeling that something was up. My mom looked at me with eyes that looked somehow guilty, but everything seemed fine I guess. After we finished eating we were very tired, so Claire and I went to our separate rooms. Not long after laying down, my dad came in and told me we needed to talk about something. He wanted to talk to me and Claire separately, so we walked downstairs to a private community room in our apartment. He had never done this before and I didn’t know what was wrong, so my heart began pounding loudly in my chest. When I sat down and he told me the news, the pounding stopped. My heart sank. He said that our family couldn’t afford to go to Cathedral anymore, so my sister and I would have to switch schools and attend Sartell High School that year. I walked upstairs slowly afterwards and fell on the floor in my room. I stared at the ceiling waiting for Claire to be told. I don’t think I really believed what my father said to me at the time. I tried not to think. I just

It was a hot sweltering day after soccer practice of my sophomore year of high school. I just pulled into the driveway after coming home from soccer, in my ’99 Honda accord. After entering my house I ripped off my soccer gear and headed for the shower. The three hour long practice in 90 degree weather sapped me of any available energy. In no hurry, I spent half an hour in the shower almost falling asleep as the hot water beat off my back. Before exiting the shower I heard this growl, which sounded like it was from an animal. While drying off, the sound occurred again and I finally realized my stomach was the animal making the noise. After finishing up in the bathroom, I decided it was time to tame the monster in my stomach that would eventually

My step-mother utters in hysterics, “The ambulance is taking your father to the hospital. It is not good. You have to come now.” I arrive at the hospital, panic-stricken, only to be met with a sobbing nurse and step-mother. They tell me he is gone. My heart shatters in a million pieces.

When I was a kid, I often overheard my dad talk about shooting people. He was always very thorough about his plans, explaining who, when, and how he was going to shoot. Honestly, I thought my father was a Government Assassin. I never asked him about it because I’d watched enough Guy Ritchie films to know that if he told me, he’d have to kill me. As I grew older I realized my dad may not have been the Assassin I thought he was. I noticed the black bag I assumed he carried his weapons in actually contained a large camera and a few wires. I realized the countless hours he’d spend on the computer weren’t spent researching his targets. Instead, they were spent cutting hours of footage down to minutes. Above all else, I found myself wanting to do

slept through the burglary. I considered lying about this to the cops when I went to report it, but you don’t lie to the police. It’s like doctors: they can’t help you if you lie to them. I mean, I don’t always tell my doctor the whole truth, but that’s because my doctor happens to be an old friend—some things are just too embarrassing to tell your friends.

The time is 7:00 AM. At this instant I need to take a quick shower and get ready for school, but to be honest, my life was totally unfair, what really worries me is who’s going to my hair. There no doubt in my mind that my life was unfortunate, for the reason that my single mother was completely busy working all day, coming home too late to have some food on the table. The first thing that I remember when I was 7-year-old was my mom and I living in the same house, sharing the same bed and bathroom, not to mention even when she was at home there was no close connection between both of us because she come home so tired that she didn’t have time to ask me how was your day at school. Even though, my mom was too busy playing the role of my