Personal Narrative Essay : Personal Experience In The Middle School

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I remember in second grade when my mom told me something that I’ve tried to keep with me over the years. “Do something nice for someone today, but keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone, just do it for the sake of being nice.” So, I did. It wasn’t much, but I pushed in chairs, straightened up cubbies, and picked up things around the class. The whole time I did, I felt this little rush. Doing things for other people felt good, even if no one thanked me. After that day, I tried to keep the same attitude. But in middle school, I learnt that the kindness you give is not always returned or appreciated no matter how hard you try. In middle school, a number of things happened that would shape and affect me to this day. First, I looked around and felt like my friends were vanishing. Without any warning, they disappeared like a cruel magic trick created to make me feel the loneliest I had ever been, despite being surrounded by hundreds of my peers. Second, the imperfections that I tried my best to hide with shields of silence, were no match for the cleverly concealed daggers of backhandedback-handed compliments and sideways glances. Third, I was completely and utterly ordinary. Brains? Meh. Singing? Nah. Drawing? Meh. Everyone else’s skills had grown and surpassed me, and sadly there’s no magical potion for talent. Fourth, death. Experiencing its aftermath for the first time and seeing how it shaped the people around me. Fifth, I learnt that I could’ve had no life, and at the same

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