Personal Narrative Essay On Social Day

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.

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

On March 4th, 2018, I, Officer Albert, was working as a Police Officer for the Wichita State University Police Department. At approximately 0150 hours I was dispatched to Shocker Hall for a suspicious character report. The suspicious character was a white male wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt riding a skateboard. I arrived at approximately 0151 hours on the south side of Shocker Hall and walked down the south steps towards the courtyard. Officer Andrew Abbey was on scene talking with an individual fitting the suspicions character description, see Officer Abbey's report. I spoke with the individual later identified as Tyler Micol Dane Kuhn. Kuhn's eyes were glassy and his pupils were large. Kuhn's hands were shaking and he seemed confused. Kuhn wasn't able to

It was a very hot day in the middle of August, one that was so oppressively humid that the air felt like a blanket, which was why Lillie Everette, momentarily confused, awoke because she remembered kicking the sheets off her bed in the middle of the night. She yawned, then got dressed excitedly. She needed get ready for the Hide and Seek game that was starting soon. She had promised her friends that she wouldn’t sleep through this one like she had for the last game. She was about to run through her front door when she hears her parents talking.

It was just like any other normal Thursday at HempPasture High School. The school day ended and I was exiting the school into the blistering cold air of mid-january. The bone-chilling wind kissed my cheeks, and hurried my rush into the field house to escape the bitter weather. I let out a sigh of relief as i entered the first set of doors, then began my decent down 2 flights of stairs to the locker room. As i descended, I couldn’t help but notice the eerie emptiness of the usually busy area of the field house. The stairwell was dimly lit, and it only seemed to get darker the more i descended. I finally came to the end of the stairwell and paused to see if i could hear anyone else as I usually would on any normal day, but all i could hear was my own faint breath. I slowly opened the door into

It was a cold foggy Friday night in Summit's Peak. Lauren was walking her six blocks home from her friend Mandy’s house. The streets were deserted, not a sole in sight. Lauren was thinking about her birthday, which was the following day. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn’t hear the clinking of boots following her only forty yards back. Pulled out of her train of thought when she heard someone cough behind her, Lauren jumped. Realizing she was not alone she whipped her head around to see who coughed, but there was nothing there. “Hello?” Lauren questioned her voice wavering. There was no reply “Maybe I’m just imaging things,” mumbled Lauren.

Then, as the last girl passed through, everyone went back to their places. I sucked in a rasped breath as I pushed the red, thick steel lunch room doors. With my hair covering the front of my face like a funeral veil, I examined the hard, smooth marble floors as I shuffled through the sea of shoes until I reached the wall. A hush fell over the crowd as the principal came strolling in. He started giving a speech about the school dance this Friday, yet I drowned him out. Today was January twenty-seventh, Stella’s birthday. I could not hold it in anymore as I sank against the wall, silently letting all the sorrow and despair flow out of me. Two pink sneakers came to rest on the glazed marble floors. “Well, do you not want to join us?” questioned a clipped, sickly sweet voice. Willing myself to raise my head, I slowly brought my eyes up. She was wearing a short checkered skirt with a navy blue collared shirt. I met the girl’s eyes. A shocking electric blue. “Well, are you going to answer me or not?” she asked again. “Um...sure…” I replied, mesmerized by the amount of makeup the girl had on. I felt hands on my shoulders as her crew pulled me to my feet. I stared at the floor the whole time until I reached the designated “popular”

Ten years ago I was celebrating my 49th birthday and on the verge of a life changing decade. After months of mammograms, tests, and biopsies, I heard the dreaded three words "you have cancer". You know that cliché movie scene where the character is sucked to the ceiling and watches the doctor from above and all she hears is a muted "blah, blah, blah"? That was my reality. I lived in what felt like a dream state for several years after hearing those words. One cannot be and will not ever be the same after a cancer diagnosis, in particular after your two favorite body parts are cut from your body. Fast forward to today, my 59th birthday and after many surgeries and procedures, I am living my "new normal". After my deconstruction and reconstruction, many

My uncle found Steve and me jobs and willing spon-sors, and three years later we emigrated to New Jersey. We were beyond excited! We felt as though the world was at our feet, and we were moving on to a new and exciting chapter of our lives.

I can feel the tension in my muscles as the crowd readies itself for the main event.I prepared myself for the final match through boxing,dodging swings,running laps, inhaling when I hold back a punch and exhaling when I release the force of my punch.Without a doubt Gabriel has trained just as hard as I have and I still cannot beat him,until now.I felt more confident than ever as I walked out into the waiting eyes of the audience.I have climbed over many obstacles to get to the grand finale and I plan on seeing this fight to the end.

When I was younger I was a killer. My mother would walk the aisles of the grocery store searching for our prey. She would single out the biggest in the pack, feel for the most tender, and strike. She’d fight with the other hunters for ownership of the animal, throw them in her cart, and carry it home to her young. Unlike the normal hunter, we had to prepare for our feast. With the meat in the center of our table surrounded by asparagus, mashed potatoes, and gravy, we prepared to pounce. “You may now eat”. Everyone grabbed and clawed for their piece. Snarling and refusing to talk, we shoved the mighty kill in our mouths. We were merciless. Our feast was over just as fast as it had begun. We wiped our mouths and put our murder utensils in the dishwasher, hoping to hide what had been done. The night continued casually, as if nothing wrong had been done.

Hello Mr. Garcia this is Sasha Arcaya id number 0039478 i was in the dance magnet and was going to be a 10th grader First i would like to ask to please hear me out. Around august 21 i switched schools to Southwest Miami senior high school and i deeply deeply deeply regret it. i dont belong in a school like that i am a very classy lady I DON'T act like most girls their, leaving MAS was the worst decision i have ever made in my life! I made my mother cry she hated southwest she thought that i was going to become a bad person. I had all of my friends at MAS when i started southwest the first day i got bulled really badly in mas i was at home. i honestly don't know why i left, i left for the JROTC program in southwest but is that really worth it?

As a student, I have always handled the pressure of schoolwork and tests by preparing, organizing, and staying ahead of the game. I study for every single test and I practice for every piano, singing, orchestra, and ballet performance. I always plan ahead for the simplest things even in my personal life. I plan my Halloween costumes in August and my December birthday in September. Therefore, preparation gives me confidence and assurance that I will perform successfully. Little did I know that I cannot always control or prepare for every situation. In the December of 2012, someone threw me a lifeline and changed my attitude.

Half the class nodded off to sleep as our calculus teacher reviewed that night’s homework before the bell dismissed the class. Rumors about a junior and senior class assembly loomed through the halls, but the rumors lacked specific details. Of course we would have an assembly on the one and only day my best friend, Isabelle, was absent. It seemed odd, though. Just the night before she told me she would be tired at school the next day due to her family’s recent move. I assured myself that she stayed home that day, but I could not shake the eerie feeling.

It was an ideal day to do an inquiry for my social study project. And to face death. Not that the two have anything in common. When you hear the term “sudden death,” you don’t expect there to be an actual loss of life, but there was nothing ordinary about that day. It was the day that affected everyone’s life. It was September 10, 2018. It’s not natural when in one flash you are doing a typical class project and, in another flash, something clicks your brain. Bahm! You then start acting like detectives. Suddenly everything falls as you come to realize the truth.