Personal Narrative: Extra Credit

I love living in a small town, it gives me a sense of guaranteed safety and simplicity.

‘’I was on my way to back to school night I was extremely nervous to meet my teacher and when I got there I heard Andrew then I turned around and…’’ One time when I was in second grade I was on my way to back to school night I went to meet my teacher her name was Ms. Pepler. She was nice at helping me put my stuff in my desk but I thought she would be meaner in the school year so when me and my mom got back in the car I said ‘’I think Ms. pepler is going to be mean this year.’’ My mom said ‘’ she seemed really nice at back to school night’’ then I said maybe you're right.’’ Now it is the first day of school and I was nervous because I thought I had a mean teacher and I didn't have any friends it was just me and my cousin. The first day of

Divorce. A shaping tool that impacts the child’s future immensely. With no additional income source, my fresh off the boat mother had to work constantly to keep the bowls filled with rice. However as a direct result, I would have to take care of myself as my mother was rarely at home. My strict mother would never let me outside so I filled my time with video games. Alone with my video games, no one can question my actions or behavior. With only a mother as a role model, I develop a feminine personally. I thought I was just a normal boy, and growing up with this mentality became problematic. Combined with my mentality and higher pitch voice, people would make fun of me and never took me seriously. I never understood why causing me to stay in

My pursuit of Kelly began almost a year before we met. I was at one of my best friends Ryan's house and I noticed Kelly's picture was on their wall. Immediately I asked Ryan's girfirend, Rugila aka Roo, every question she would tolerate to answer.

Every year I go on my boat to various places. However this year was special because it was the year that my parents trusted me more. It was the year that I turned thirteen There is a law by which when an individual turns thirteen, they don’t have to wear life preservers anymore and they are allowed to drive small boats on their own. A little while back, I got my boater's license which allowed me to drive jet skis and engines above fifteen horsepower.

There isn’t a day in my life that I wake up and do not ask myself, “Why?” Why did my mother have to leave? Why did this happen to me? Without a doubt, the absence of my mother is the hardest obstacle I have had to overcome. My parents were young and unsure how to raise a child on their own. My mom really believed she could not do it, so she left when I was eight months old. At that age, a mother to an infant is everything, yet she was not there. I grew up not knowing the love of a mother, but learned to be independent. I did not have someone to guide me through childhood because my dad was too busy working in order to provide for us, and his family had kids of their own to worry about. Though his family loved us, they favored their own children over me and my sister. We had to do everything around the house while they did nothing. We felt as if we had no voice and no one to support us. Being in this situation made me into

I started my walk from the AGO which is located on Dundas Street West. It was a sunny and bright day early in the morning. People seemed to be walking towards the art gallery from all directions of the city as well as riding up on their bikes. The many bikes standing by the gallery gave the impression that many visitors were flocking to the site. The revolving doors of the art gallery were moving continuously, people were going in and out. The constant movement indicated to me that the place was popular. The entrance of the gallery seemed also to be a temporary meeting hub for people. It is by the entrance that people stood together and chatted. As I stood and observed the gallery, I also witnessed many groups of children walking

My family is full of musicians. My parents and my grandfather all play in the same wind band, in which my great grandfather used to play as well, so it was assumed that I continue the tradition. For a long time I thought that wind music is old-fashioned and certainly not ”cool” enough. I dreamt of becoming a famous singer making cheerful pop music. I’ve changed a lot since then.

"Oh? How bad you've been? You've been so bad you need to be punished? You've been so bad you need to be spanked?

One sunny August afternoon 5 years ago I made a brash decision that I regret to this very day. A choice I look back to this very day and question: “Why in the world did I do this?”

I would go into a desperate panic when all a sudden I could not hear. I would get this hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach, my throat would become dry as I gulped and tried to gather my senses. It was as if the volume button was turned down and all that was left to hear was a weird gurgling static sound. Reality hit me hard and fast, I had hearing loss. I thought that was the worst of it, a fluke thing, little did I know about the next ten weeks ahead of me.

I would say distraction was one of the challenges I had to overcome to get where I am today. My friends, relationships, staying up late, watching television or doing something else rather than doing my work, would always back track me even if I thought “I’ll be okay” and just catch back up; it’s not that easy. I use to focus so much on other people in my life, I’d forget about myself and what’s best for me. When I was in the middle school, I would get so distracted by my cell phone, my mom would have a restriction on it so that I couldn’t send or receive text within school hours. Nevertheless, I didn’t understand, but now I see where it could hurt my grades.

When my eyes roll open it immediately surges through my being. The insatiable desire to get more of V. My body groans, feelings as though it was thrashed by wild animals. My mind fighting to function it feels like it’s just moving through molasses. I feel like I had my heart broken thousands of times over. I go onto procure my day’s first taste of V. I get the first taste of it very early in my morning the mere taste allows my body to untighten. My mind feels a great clarity surge through it. My heart set back at ease. These feelings though, amazing, are short lived as V clears from my system.

I've never had to write a personal narrative before. Nor do I like to. Personally, I've always just tried to forget a lot that goes on around me. I hate diary entries and journaling. The closest I've come to any of it is writing poems. They were never any good though. Mostly talking about teenage angst or what I think the color green would taste like. But some of them were like stories. Stories about my friends, and about dreams.

The teenage boy stood there still as stone, a marble statue, his flesh had gone beyond the colour of marble, to a new ghostly tinge of white, void of colour. His eyes were the only thing expressing any emotion, and that was fear. Extreme fear, the kind where you can feel your impending death, as it stares you in the face. After moments of complete petrification the traumatised boy spoke in a shaky and terrified voice.
“W-Why are you h-here Lock, get away from me please…” he said to my boyfriend, his eyes flinching, as if his body wasn’t still petrified. Eric, my boyfriend, chuckled loudly, that real genuine laugh, the one that your dad would make which felt warm and hearty like a hug during a thunderstorm. Usually it’d lighten up a conversation,