Personal Narrative Essay: Enduring Agony

It was a beautiful, cool July morning in the mountains of Colorado; the birds were chirping and the leaves on the trees were rustling. I could almost taste the bacon sizzling on the stovetop as my mother made breakfast. Nothing could ruin a perfect morning like this… At least that’s what I thought. Interrupting the cooking of breakfast, my mom’s cell phone strangely began to ring; there hadn’t been many people trying to contact my mom since she was on vacation. However, my mom ran to answer the call. “Oh, it’s your sister,” I heard my mom say. Although I was in a different room, I could hear the concern and worry in my mother’s voice moments after she answered the phone. Instantaneously, my heart began to race. I began feeling sick to my stomach

Getting into the swing of becoming an adult may seem like the end of the world. It’s stressful, confusing, scary, and overall very difficult. For me at least. You think that it might be the end of the world for you, but nothing is worse than losing yourself in the process of all of that. You feel lost and frustrated because you don’t know who you are and what you want to do. That is what happened to me. Throughout high school, mainly my last two years, I felt lost, I didn’t know who I was. Graduation came and my graduation present was a plane ticket to Virginia for a week to meet a friend. Going to Virginia and meeting Megan has shown me who I am and what I want to do.

The darkness consumed my cousin, but not completely. A part of me did not want to believe that she committed a mass murder and maybe, just maybe it was someone else. But the proof that the police needed was all there. We weren’t that close but it pained me to know that someone who i thought to be as a kind and caring person could kill people.

Just what is violence? Violence is explained as hostile emotions or feelings being acted upon. Also it means to be severe, adamant and many times hazardous by using one’s natural strength so as to create hurt or mistreatment (Webster, 2015,p.1). How many times have we seen or heard on the news of two individuals who engaged in an argument only to have it escalate to a full blown fist fight or end in a shooting death. My mother once told us of a story of a man named Leroy who had gotten into an argument with a male friend both men ended up slashing each other to death with a barber’s razor. Two young ladies had a beef in our own neighborhood while wrestling

It can be said that the more you suffer, the more you survive. Surviving is a notably underrated term. People easily identify with the terms “strong” and “brave”, but we often forget that survival comes first. The trials and tribulations that life throws at us can be brutal and unfair, but it’s up to us to either suffer, or survive. My mother chose to survive.

Let me begin with the definition of violence: violence is behavior involving physical force intended to hurt, damage or kill someone or something. The act of violence is so powerful and destructive. One incident can change a life forever. A parent is a child first example and deepest impression. And victims of violence, the type I'm talking about, the shock and pain inside them can easily turn into rage, which is the primary fuel for violent behavior. Which can turn into a scientific term: a vicious cycle.

Everyone is capable of violence, the temptation is hard to resist even at the best of times. When in conflict you get an adrenaline rush. The adrenaline causes endorphins to release, Endorphins is produced as a response to certain stimulus, such as stress, fear or pain. It interacts with receptors in cells found in the brain responsible for blocking out pain and controlling emotion. The hormone is what creates the ‘flight or fight’ scenario. When a human is put into a situation that they find threatening, their judgment and capabilities of reason are momentarily blocked and they evidently lose themselves because they lack

It's hard to stay out of it when you already in it. Enduring the pain you feel for others, while they don't know it yet. I see through the lies around me and through their fake smiles. I wish I could ask them why they are smiling when they're not happy. What made me stronger was a friend who tried to change my mind to their side of the story. While we both know, you were in the wrong, but still trying to make me think the same way as she does.The lies they told me when I know the truth, and for her to still try to convince me otherwise. When I know my friend is in pain, but hide it with a smile, showing me her real self to me, but for me to do nothing to help her. Knowing that if I said something to the source of her pain, I could just make

“You’re OVERWEIGHT” I have always been told. My mom was overweight most of her life as well and she wanted better for me. She never wanted to see me struggle as much as she did. My father was an alcoholic around the time I was born so mom raised me as a single parent for the first few years of my life until she meant her now current husband. She recently just emigrated from Haiti at the time, and she was trying to settle a life in America. I was looked up to my mom; she makes me realize that ambition is more than anything. Growing up, I always struggle with my body, my self-image. Every time I looked in the mirror, I have never liked what I have seen, how tall I am, how my arms looked, how my cheeks looked in comparison to my nose and my mouth, how my stomach fell from the

At the football game at Rosary High on Friday night, Chris was hanging out with his friends Tyler and Jack by the bathrooms. When the game was about to start, they all went to use the bathroom. As they were about to leave, a group of students came in and saw Jack washing his hands. One of the guys in the group named Cameron started pushing Jack between his friends and asking him “Hey fag, aren’t you in the wrong bathroom?”

“Sweetheart, can you pass me the butter off the kitchen counter?” I say to my daughter, who was supposed to be helping me cook. Sorry to say, she decided against it at the last minute.

For most of my childhood, my whole world was comprised of people that shared the same ethnicity, culture, and living style as I did. But after leaving El Salvador at the young age of seven and undertaking the most difficult journey of my life, my world was split shattered. In school, I had to assimilate to a culture where I was surrounded by kids who had been born speaking English and teachers who taught with voluminous books instead of dirty chalk boards. Meanwhile, at home I had to meet my mom’s expectations while also serving as her intermediary between our old world and the US. Aside from school and home, I also had to struggle making friends, having difficulty creating and maintaining relationships with the people of my age group. Having

There once was a salt shaker, named Saltina, who fell in love with a pepper shaker, named Pepprico. The two grew up in a grocery store down town, and began to grow rather fond of each other. Unfortunately, their love was forbidden among the spice world, but they did not care. As they grew closer and closer they decided to elope, and get married at night in the produce isle. The two eventually had an oregano child and named her Baby Spice. They kept their child hidden with their good friend, Herb, who lived in the isle next to them. The family became tired of having to live this secret life, so they decided to run away. Saltina took Baby Spice to a place where Pepprico and his wife could bring the child with them. The three would leave at the busiest store hour, so that way all the

I think I can safely say that everybody has had a moment in their life that they regret. One of mine happened back in elementary school. Back then, with my miniature pigtails and Justice clothing, it never really dawned on me about the damage that could happen to me personally, if I chose the wrong friend. However, unfortunately, I soon realized that. Never in my life, had I experienced such suffering or pain like that. Looking back on it now, I see how I’ve changed from the silly, outgoing girl that I used to be.

The rest of that day left us starving; we weren’t fed lunch or dinner. I sat on my bed and put my head down remembering that Tom was still outside The noise of the cell keys clanging caused me to raise my head with suspicion. Two guards were holding Tom; one for each arm. I knew Tom was hurting because his arms were broken. But the guard didn't seem to care for Tom because he kept throwing him around. Tom was pushed into the cell and I helped him up. His cuts were deep and his left arm was in a makeshift sling. I had been despondent towards his actions which made me have respect for him. The innocent man was beaten for saying one word. I knew that I could tell him anything; even my past. I couldn’t hold the truth in much longer. I had to