Personal Narrative Essay : A Personal Experience In My Life

I have heard the phrase, “life isn’t easy”, so many times in my life. And I finally realized the truth in it.

My dog’s name was Sandy. My mom and dad got her when they got married. She ate the flowers that they got on their wedding that were supposed to last the entire marriage. When I was a baby she would run to my mom whenever I was crying. She would look at my mom with her head to the side, and her ears up. She would never get mad at me if I put her in baby clothes, or put her in a sweater if it was cold outside.

When asked to write a personal essay I pondered the many things that I could write about and nothing seemed quite right but one of the events that I truly believe changed my life. That is why I chose to write about basic and what I have learned from being in the army. Everyone has their own stories so no one will have a story that is similar to mine because everyone's life is different. That’s what makes mine stand out, I can guarantee that my reader will be able to experience something that they themselves have not even if they have been to basic themselves. My hook in the beginning is actually how I wanted my whole essay to be, but the more that I wrote the more my essay changed to a more inner thought sort of essay. This change hurt me later on though when I changed from past tense to present tense and back again without catching it. This was an easy fix however and some of my other minor errors were brought to my attention by Alex in my writing group when we switched documents with each other.

Heart pounding, hands sweating, almost on the verge of tears, my nine-year-old self-had forgotten her math homework again. “Where is your homework?” Ms. McDougall croaked comparable to a decrepit toad. Consequentially, my fellow pupils judging eyes pierced through my soul. I shrugged my shoulders, slammed my desk shut and huffed my way to sit outside. McDougall treated me as synonymous to a delinquent child. She spewed, “ You’re stupid and lazy, and the pictures you draw would not earn me you an A.” As if a nine-year-old knew the meaning of bribery? Granted, I was not this child she created in her mind. I just did not have the sort of intelligence in which she upheld on her version of the ' Iron Throne.’

I wandered around town for what felt like an hour looking at all the shops and exhibits for tourists. The town was old looking but nice. Reminding me of a old German town. Finally I ended up on the outskirts of town close to the dense forest that surrounded the town. I checked my watch 1:02. Guess I should get some lunch. PSH CRUNCH CRUNCH. I heard something in the woods. I looked but saw nothing probably a rabbit it is the woods after all. I started to walking again CRUNCH.

I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.

I never chose to live in Newark, New Jersey. After I was born, my dad left us, and my mom fell off the wagon we just kinda ended up here. I swear my mom has vodka coursing through her veins instead of blood.

When I was back in Philadelphia, the school I went to. Took students camping for two weeks if they wanted to. Around the end of six grade, one of my goods friends Alex asked me if I wanted to go camping because he was planning on going. I told him that I would have to ask my parents before I can give you an answer.

This is the story is about me and my thirst for revenge on the man who killed my parents. One sunny day, my family was cooking together. I was outside playing with my dolls when I could smell an acrid scent coming from the stove.

Creeek. The hard maple bends under my feet, I walk across the the marble as the sleek ninja in my tiny 8-year old mind. I hear the melodically digital sound of the TV as it floods my ears with sound. “Hi… Colin” says my grandpa softly, he turns slowly back to the television as the sounds of gunshots and war enslave him. His past memories haunt him, I know this because the war gave him a souvenir more powerful than one can imagine, a wooden leg. He asks me, “How are you doing?” His eyes train the television as he speaks, “I’m doing well, and I really love hockey, it’s really fun”. He turns from the TV, “You like hockey?” he says, “Yeah I love it”, he looks right through me and says, “That’s great, I’m terrible at skating.” I laugh, he smiles. I think to myself, “At least he has a sense of humor” he turns back to the television, I knew what happened, I knew he got shot, I knew he had felt pain through so many years of stillness. He asked me if I wanted some Life-Savers, as the sugar hungry kid I was, I immediately responded with a, “Yes please”. As he watched, he asked for one, I handed him one as his gown stretched over his leathered out skin. The gown was his only garment, was his pants, his shirt, his collar, and his armor, but in a battle of him versus the virtual soldiers on the television he didn’t need a gun, a helmet or the armor that tired his skin behind enemy lines. He talked as a sage of the war of stories of gallantry as we watched figures dance across a war torn

Ever Sunday afternoon I would watch whatever football game was on. My favorite team, the Steelers, were on a bye this week, so I was just watching the Bengals vs Cardinals game. I remember this games vividly because it was such a good game. It was half time when I heard my phone buzz. I ignored it until the end of the third quarter and when I looked at it my stomach dropped. In my history class we had been learning about western migration. She told us that we had to make an advertisement about moving to the west. We were allowed to have partners so Chris and I immediately looked at each other and partnered up. The three days in class that were supposed to be for working were spent talking about fantasy football and the NFL season. That project was due on Monday and Chris and I had not done any work. Chris’ text said,

Time slowed down and gravity lifted as my car drifted over the thin black sheet of glass. My car didn't stop until it connected with the telephone pole next to the road. The impact threw me into the air bag and broke all of my windows. I must have been in a lot of pain because the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital the next morning, with my right arm and left leg in a cast and a nurse standing over me. She told me that they were unable to find any identification on me so they couldn't call anyone to let them know about the accident. That made sense considering I accidently left my wallet at work, which I was driving home on a back road from when I hit the pole. She brought me a computer and let me borrow her phone to contact those that I needed to.

It was an ordinary day of being a college student at summer's eve university. The wind gently blowing against the fresh green trees, pine cones falling softly towards the ground, and students desperately dishing out flyers so that others will come and join their club. For me these things are way too repetitive. I want something new to happen, such as having less homework given by my professor or maybe even having an accident occurring. Don’t get me wrong, I'm not the type of person who likes having these events happening, but I do like some excitement. I, Aiden Sartore will make a change in my life and make it the best. Muhahaha! A sudden burst came into my room.

I remember when it happened, it was a sunny day and I decided to take my new pink, sparkly bike and go for a bike ride along my newly paved street. I plopped on my helmet and began to peddle along the sidewalk. I could smell the sweet flowers as they whizzed by me, until I realized that I was no longer peddling. I pushed and pulled on the small brakes sitting on the handles as I began to speed down the hill. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest as I sped closer and closer to the electrical pole until I bashed into it.

I grew up in a very christian household with my grandmother, father and 2 brothers and my mom was in and out for most of my life, she was a heroin addict so i guess that could have shaped me. I raised myself and my brother for the most part because granny was working and my dad was dealing with my disabled older brother and the 3 dogs and 20 cats we had at the time. I was usually outside playing with the neighbor boys as a child unless i was at my old christian school being lectured about god, which don't get me wrong i'm not anti god or anything i'm just taoist so i was never into the bible. I was in that charter school from 4th to 8th grade and it wasn't a bad school until 7th when i went to the jr high where walker elementary and burch elementary fed into which was seinz jr high where we could never keep a teacher for longer that 2 weeks. It wasn't too bad because i didn't need a teacher in middle school i wanted to be left alone anyway, i was a very angry middle schooler because it was right after my mom had left for good, and all i wanted to do was watch anime and read manga, i was also angry because i felt like something was wrong with me, growing up in a house with a jesus obsessed grandmother, being gay wasn't a thing and i had a feeling i was just that. I first felt that way in 7th grade but i had always kind of had a feeling since i was little i never like the disney boys on tv like my friends in elementary i was obsessed with hannah montana as a girl and not because of her music, so there weren't any doubts in my mind of what was going on but i refused to tell anyone especially my family. I got a boyfriends in 8th grade and to this day that boy is my best friend and what do ya know the boys a weirdo too, hes a tranny, i'm still so proud to say it even if i am gay but i dated that beautiful tranny man!