Personal Narrative

My dad was a considerably strong sergeant in his time. During the Vietnam War, his last battle, he was taking cover behind an old abandoned shed when someone came around from behind and shot him four times in the back. Worst news ever, but worst of all was the month after when I received word that my mom was struck in an explosion and that she might not make it. I held out hope till the final word but deep down inside I knew that I wasn’t gonna see her again besides in her grave. After all the pain and anguish I was feeling, I knew I had to come back to reality and find a way to survive as a thirteen year old girl in a cold and bitter war zone.

When I was younger I had always been described as mature. Although I wasn’t anywhere near being “mature”, it was a word always used to describe me, well-mannered and mature. While my brother was goofy and social, I was shy and serious. We were twins yet total opposites. As a child, because that was the word almost always associated with me, it crae unusual, almost toxic idea about myself. I had to be mature to be what people liked about me. So, it never occurred to me to be able to not take myself seriously and say something like “Oops that was dumb” and laugh it off. For some reason that didn’t make sense to me to say silly things like that.

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.

Sitting in a hospital waiting room, alone, afraid; and waiting for the news; would she be ok? Would she even survive? My nerves were out of control; my heart was beating through my chest, you could literally see it thumping through my top. The beads of sweat racing down my forehead, as if I was in the middle of the Safari dessert. I have been an athlete my entire life, yet I have never felt so physically drained. I look around, my eyes opening, then closing; as if I am coming in and out of consciousness, then suddenly echoed words begin to ring around my ear drums….” Sir…...sir, can you hear me? Sir please, we need to know what happened. We need to know what happened to her. Maybe my motionless state showed my

I been through a lot to be of assistance for this awesome police officer in Chicago, Illinois. I went through being distributed from Cupertino, California to Chicago, to being manufactured in South Korea, being made into many different parts to be an intermediate good, and being different parts as a raw material. I’m starting with who I am ,I am a iPhone 7 Red.{I know, I know, I am fancy} I am with this officer where I go all around Chicago with my owner Officer Jentson and we go fight crime and help other around our community. I came to Officer Jentson through the FedEx mail. I originally came from different parts of the world. Before I got to Officer Jentson I was in Cupertino, California going through the distribution process, that process

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

I think about it for a moment. "Thanks for the offer babe, but I'd rather fly this one solo" I reply to him.

Every student is excited when school starts. New classes, new backpacks, new clothes, and seeing all your friends is a part of this excitement. The first few weeks are new; no homework, plenty of free time, etc. But after two or three months, school isn’t cool anymore. The homework piles up, the tests are being printed, but how much stress can you take before it’s too much?

Sunshine. Endless amounts of fun. Water. It was about that time again, summer! My favorite season, no school and my birthday was in it. This summer was especially great, my dad was coming home he was in the military and I hadn't seen him in eight months. It was about a regular summer day with my family, when my parents thought of heading down to the beach. I was thrilled this beach was one of my favorite places to go in the summer. It was not only just a beach but, it also had a large park with big blue swings, a tennis court, and large grass area for people to have picnics. And were the beach and the park split of there were tall ginormous rocks so people could watch the boats and ocean. I was so excited and on top of that my mom told me that

My entire life I have always been the smallest person in the room. In elementary school, I was a four-foot-nothing, fifty-pound, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pretty little wisp of a thing. My best friend, Michelle, was, in contrast, was a year older and nearly two heads taller than me, and outweighed me by at least once my own body weight. She also loved to wrestle and would take any opportunity to smash me in a wrestling match. These matches were friendly (if only in the sense that after they were over we would both stand up and go back to adoring each other) but nonetheless highly competitive. Looking back on it, she probably should have been able to kill me, but, try as she might, she never could - she didn’t even win more than half the time.

The front lawn of Valdosta State hardly looked like a lawn, but more like a flea market on Saturday afternoon or a carnival on a Saturday night minus the rides. There were so many people there I could barely pick out one conversation because the roar of the crowd was so overwhelming. As I approached the hectic scene I seemed to be swallowed by the swarm of people around me and continued to travel in the same direction as them. I began to feel the beat of the music in my body, the booming in my chest felt as though my heart was racing and then the unfamiliar beat became clear to me. I continued shuffling my feet in the grass and could feel the warmth from the sun heating my skin. I could hear the excitement from the student’s voices when they received a free souvenir. I also listened to the workers from the booths advertise their business saying where they were located and what extraordinary deals they had to offer. From then on I began paying more attention to the booths themselves. A majority of them were plastered with their logo and surrounded by bright colors to grab the student’s attention and more often than not, it worked.

She's got the black plastic of a cutting knife handle gripped in her palm. Beige-painted fingernails glisten under the scrutinizing lights of our glazed kitchen; a classy and neutral color, like herself. She's grinning in concentration, a thin upward-curving line shaping her lips.

I was 6 years old as I heard another fight between dad and mom. This time it was unbearable to hear so I went to my room and curled into a corner to cover my ears. No matter how much my tiny hands pressed on my ears I could still hear my dad and mom yelling at each other. All of a sudden, I hear a loud noise and the yelling stopped. I run to their room, terrified of what I might see. I was right to be terrified because I can see my mom on the ground with her hand on her red cheek. Then the monster of my dad grabs her and hits her again.

“How may I help you?” The words have been recited a thousand times to a thousand different people. After a certain amount of time saying the same words with a smile so fake it would make Barbie proud, it begins to become a sort of second nature. Even someone as shy as I am could do it with no problem.

On last Friday, I went to Millennium Park at 7:30 P.M. to see the lyric opera to enjoy Friday night with my girlfriend. As Professor told us, I brought wines, glasses, and a blanket to seat down on the park. I arrived there at 7'o clock. I could see a lot of people crowded in that area; some people brought their tea table, chairs, foods, and wines. While I was surprised on what I saw, I tired to find our seats to see the amazing opera that thrilled me over the weekend.