Personal Narrative

In the beginning of third grade was so exciting because I will get to see my friends. But when I got home my parents told me and my brother that we are moving. I was really excited at first because it was my first time moving.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

One of two. That's how I feel everyday of my life. I'm a twin and that means I will never be complete without my other half. When I was younger, I learned that having a twin does not keep me from things. It's getting to have a person in my life that I don't need to hide from, other than in hide and seek. When I was little, my brother probably hated me as much as I hated him. But we were together all the time. We went to school together, we were in the same class almost all the time. Sometimes, we had the same friends even. We shared birthday parties, cakes, presents, money. Basically the same things we still share now. But between us, we shared secrets. Little things that we thought were so cool. When my grandma gave us money, we split it and made sure not to tell our parents. I went and bought

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

It was one of those oddities; though identical twins, they had celebrated different birthdays: first, Molly, born on April 1, 1972, at 11:47 PM, and second came Megan on April 2 at 12:17 AM. Their parents, Meryl and Bill, thought it best that the twins celebrate on their own days and had always held separate parties for them. Bill adored “his girls,” and Megan was probably his favorite. A parent shouldn’t have a favorite child, yet, they all, more than likely do. It’s either the one that they’ve carried some sort of guilt about, for one reason or another, or the one that highly reminds them of themselves. In Bill’s case, it was definitely Megan, he enjoyed her spunk (a quality he thought missing from the other two children). It was his attraction to her high-spiritedness that had Meryl, on countless occasions telling him; “You are letting her get away with

It was a normal chilly sunday on September 13th, 2015. My dad was in the garage with some of his friends watching the football game. It was the Dallas Cowboys vs. the New York Giants. My dad and his friends were making hot dogs and burgers on the grill but I don’t like those so I asked my dad if I could go to the store and get the ingredients to make taco dip. He handed me $20 and I headed off to the store with one of my dad’s friend’s son. The store was at the end of my street so it wasn’t a far walk.

This assignment brought me closure, the making of “The rose that grew from the concrete” brought me to tears literally. My sons birthday took place on a Saturday, and the drawings and final cuts of the paper were made the night before Friday. I made arrangements before hand, and decorated the basement with a Teen Titans theme on Thursday. I was feeling bitter sweet about my sons birthday since he was turning five. I believe that this year was harder one me, since he had just started school for the first time. As I pressed play on my final product a million things ran through my head.

I have not always been a Christian, growing up in an isolated part of Tennessee were families lived apart from each other, Jesus was not a household name that was spoken of. We didn’t pray or nor did I see my parents pray. This became a resonating tradition in my life. Though I was very close to my mother and really didn’t interact with others, it created in my mind an introverted person. This created a covering of my feelings and started me on a downward fall in my life. Our family didn’t go to church, so it became a part of my belief system, so I continued to live my life as if nothing else matters outside of my family. I was gifted in many things, but I drew to my talent of Basketball and focused totally on it. The adrenaline and desire

The bright white screen fills the room as I hold the remote up to the TV. I flick continuously through the channels, hoping something will take my fancy. I pause on a breaking news story. The voice of a woman fills the air as she explains. ‘A runaway escapee and murderer last seen heading towards the South end of Australia has disappeared. Anyone in the areas of’, I reach for the off button as the mumbles of voices drown out as the TV turns off. I put the remote down and shut my eyes. The dark patterns and swirls fill the darkness as I fill my mind with the endless possibilities from some of the deepest parts of my mind. I replay the series of my day over and over in my head. Replacing the mistakes in the day and presenting myself with what

Since my first day of high school, I have developed into a more responsible and mature person as well as open minded and understanding. Going into high school, I was pretty mature for my age compared to my peers but I was also pretty ignorant about my surroundings and certain situations I would find myself being in. I would even cave in and do things that I wasn't particularly fond of or interested in. Looking back at my past few years, I have gained a lot of experience interacting with people, learned things about myself, and have an insight of what the “real world” is like. I learned how to be my own leader, to be even more independent, and to stand up for myself & not be shut down or ignored. I have overcome different forms of adversity

The sand is cold, the sky overcast, and the waves crash against the shore echoing harshly through my ears. I see clouds rolling overhead, I can smell the salt of the ocean, feel the texture of the sand, taste the electricity on the air and it all points to the coming storm. Is it real? Can anything be real when seen through someone else's eyes, felt through someone else's skin, tasted through someone else's tongue, Breathed through someone else's nose, heard through someone else's ears? This is what the world looked like to her, felt like to her, but what did it look like to me, feel to me? Was there ever a me or only this continually changing sculpture, patterns of a person and nothing more. I shivered as the cold air caressed the flesh I wore.

I attempted to draw air into my lungs but my throat was too tightly shut by the force of the sash wrapped around my neck. Neither would sound come out, nor air stream in. From afar, I could hear laughter and conversations going on in the near rooms. Louder in my head were muffled noises coming from my nasal passage in its final attempt to breathe in its last breath. Life and death, in this very moment, were all under one roof. My hands, still in my pockets, involuntarily clenched into a fist. My toes cleaved to one another as if to say to each other “We are in this together.” They curved in towards my heel and would have fain clenched into their own fists’. This pendulum of a girl and noose no longer oscillated. Time had stopped. The initial

Sometimes, you receive wisdom from unexpected places and people at unexpected times. If you are lucky, it will remain embedded in your mind the rest of your life. If you are smart, you’ll use it.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ropable about leaving my home, my friends, and my school. Ever since Mum left us, Dad’s heart bad been set on leaving. Dad’s new life moto: “We have to leave our memories in the past, move on, and start a new chapter in our lives.” Anything I said didn’t even come into consideration. I had just finished the most stressful year of my life, and was finally on the right track, but now the track is coming to a wobbly end.

He was an avid golfer and each weekend I was the proverbial golf widow. I often wondered how much of this was my fault? Our relationship was deteriorating so much that I couldn’t stand to be around him and his pessimistic attitude. He was the type of person that if I said “it’s a beautiful day and the sky is blue” he would respond with “it is more turquoise and I can’t stand that color”. It got to the point that I would suggest to him that he “get out of the house and enjoy himself”. Then I would resent him for doing so. It was very passive aggressive on my