Personal Narrative Essay

I believe in having responsibility for my actions for the rest of my life. Responsibility can earn me a ton of things, such as money and treats. If I do an action or sometimes help my mother with an action, I gain a dollar or two or my mom gives me a treat, like Sweet Frog’s. In this case, I wouldn’t mind being responsible because it involves something that I care about dearly.

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

cancer is the enemy. cncer kills over 20 thousand people a day occording to global report. this terrole disease is so common 12.7 million people a year find out they have cancer and of that number rouggly 7.6 million die. cancer being the leading cause of death world wide has led to several fundraisers to support our courageous fighters. a fundrauser i have been lucky enough to participate in is a 5k run/3k walk. i was 13 when i partocipated in my first 5k run/3k walk in stuttgart germany for a light the night for all kinds of cancers. pervous to the fundraiser i was sadly told my cousin who was just a baby at the tome had been diagnosed with luekimia. immediately i wanted to help, i began by spreading the word around my school and having my friends buy tshirts titled

The next morning I woke up pressed against the wall, my hair in disarray around my head and my shirt bunched up on the sides. I lifted myself up and groggily rubbed my eyes before doing the usual.

A few years ago cheerleading was a huge part of my life. I was on two competitive teams that worked hard three days a week to perfect our routines. When we were not practicing we were encouraged to attend open gyms which were aimed at practicing our tumbling skills. I attended the open gym being held one day not knowing that it would be my last. As I landed a one handed cartwheel my knee was twisted so drastically that I heard a loud pop that followed up with intense pain. After icing it and resting for a few days, I started to interpret my pain as being more serious due to the fact that it was giving out on me while doing daily tasks. I also had two close friends that had torn ligaments in their knees that needed repaired with surgery, so

I never would think about showing an animal. I decided to go wild and show a steer my junior year, I did not think about showing an animal so big before but it was worth the wild. I knew it would be hard work, dedication and responsibility. I worked so hard to get where I wanted that steer and it sure did pay off. Being successful is something that someone feels when they work for something that they tried so hard on and then succeeded in it. Success is the way I felt when I was getting ready for the show while I was standing to be called in my class and how I felt when I got out of the show ring.

I was in second grade and excited to begin the new school year. When I tried to greet two new students, both large boys, they stared at me and burst into sarcastic, menacing laughter, taunting me with the derogatory term “chocolate boy.” As the days went by, other students took up this taunting and then it moved to physical intimidation. I had a clear sense that danger was imminent, and I began to feel a terrible sense of vulnerability. It was at this point that I decided, after my parents’ suggestion, to learn some method of self-defense.

Seth Reece is strange man. He has no friends and his sister is the only person from his family that is still alive. His parents died when he was seventeen in a airplane crash and left Seth and his sister Tia to live with each other. They live in an old, dumpy run down apartment complex in, Dallas Texas. One day Seth was walking down East Main St. to go get a big Mac from Mcdonald's when he realized he had no money. He called his sister and asked her if he could borrow money when she told him she had no money and that she had just got fired from her job at the food market. When he got back to his apartment there was a note on the door, the note said that they had not paid rent for the last two months so they were going to be kicked out

Gasping, fresh air fills my lungs. Bitter cold, I open my eyes, a blinding white room occupies my vision. Again.

Kara Gubler woke up at her regular time, 5:15 in the morning, took her shower, got dressed; in her purple Adidas sweatpants and black Adidas sweatshirt, ate her favorite breakfast; Corn Flakes with Milk, and headed out the door. It was 6:30 when she got a taxi to 6142 Roswell Rd, where she would get her new Pointe shoes. When she opened the door at 7:45 she was welcomed with the familiar scent of foot deodorant. After a few seconds of awkwardly standing in the doorway, Kara was greeted by an older, heavyset woman. “Who are you and what time is your appointment?” the older woman asked “Hi I’m Kara Gubler and my appointment time was 7:30” Kara answered politely. “Well I would normally decline late appointments, but I’m feeling giving today, go take a seat”. Kara went to the corner of the store where there were dozens of boxes of shoes, waiting to be tried on.

Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm went off. “Ugh,” I sighed in grief. Why did it have to be the end of the summer. The the time of year when I had to go back to the place I dreaded most in life, school. Everybody was always picking on me and all. After I got out of my deep thoughts, I went downstairs and ate my breakfast. Then, when I finished eating I went upstairs to do my morning routine. While I was doing my hair in the bathroom, I heard a knock at the door. Who could be knocking at the door this early in the morning, I asked myself. Then when I opened the door, my best friend, Layla embraced me with a warm hug. “Hey! Are you ready for school,” she said ecstatically. Oh I forgot to mention that me and Layla have known each other since 2nd grade, so we always do stuff together, including

The young woman jumped, hitting several keys on her keyboard. She looked around her dark room and then to the clock on the computer screen. 7:00 AM.

BEEP BEEP BEEP. My alarm blared as I slowly awoke from my slumber at five o’clock on a frosty Monday morning. As I sat up, I could smell an amazing smell of bacon and pancakes that was being made downstairs. The smell got me so energized that it made me spring up faster and higher tan I have ever jumped before. I hopped up, got dressed quickly and ran downstairs so fast, I almost fell on the way down. As I reached the bottom of the steps my mother greeted me with an exhausted,“Good morning, do you want some oatmeal or something?”

I woke up to pots banging followed by the melody of Karyn White’s Superwoman. I stretched and started my day. I made my way downstairs to see my mother singing her heart out with the wooden spoon. My nose smelled the turkey necks and sazon simmering all the way from my room. “Good morning boo” she greeted. I gave her a hug and said “morning mommy”. She handed me a list and told me to get the supplies from the cabinet. I had to clean the bathrooms, sweep and mop, clean the mirrors, clean my room, and vacuum from top to bottom. I felt like Cinderella as I played “we belong together” on my ipod. I cleaned and cleaned until all I could smell was lavender fabuloso. As I made my way downstairs to put the supplies up my Aunt bunny and Uncle Benny busted through the door loud as usually looking for me to smother me with hugs and kisses. She begins to tell me how big I’ve gotten since she’s seen me last. She begins a conversation with my mother as she finishes topping the baked macaroni and cheese with a few extra shreds.

I wake up to the hot summer breeze blowing through my window. The sound of fans blazing is a pleasant comfort and I turn myself to face the hot white sun. For a moment I consider pulling the heavy black covers back over myself and ignore the fact that the day has already begun. But a reminder I have the day to myself pulls me out of bed. I drag my feet across the soft carpet and ideas for the day flood my mind. I catch myself in the mirror with a small smirk on my face, deep chocolate hair pulled loosely up and I decide today will be good. I open the door to my bedroom, leading to a dark wood staircase.