Personal Narrative: Growing Up As A Child

I was slowly rolling up the street, sitting in the back of school bus number 741, for what felt like a normal Wednesday afternoon. I looked out the window as we entered my street and I couldn’t believe eyes. Little freshman me had my face pressed up against the bus window, desperately trying to comprehend why there could possibly be so many emergency vehicles in my driveway. The bus came to a stop, I ran to the front, and scrambled down the steps. I got off the bus, stopped, and looked at the 7 house walk I took every day to make it home. This walk I did everyday felt ten times as long and as I got closer and closer my vison started to blur, legs started to crumple, and all

On Friday, March 4 around 2:15pm my friend Iris and I decided to drive around to look for a park with children interacting to start our observations. We visited around six parks that varied on their components and locations but had no luck of three children interacting with each other. Most of the them were empty and the few other ones had a few children interacting more with parents or by themselves than with other children. At this point we reasoned that children must be in school causing the parks to be empty.

Throughout our lives, we learn many different lessons. Whether it is a lesson learned from your consequences, like doing drugs, or getting a speeding ticket for driving too fast in a school zone, everyone learns lessons in their lives. One lesson that I have learned in particular is when I didn’t ask permission to go hang out with friends. My parents were both at work, and I couldn’t get contact either of them, so I decided on my own that I should be able to hang out with some friends because I had nothing to do, and they would never find out if I got back home in time before they returned from work. This was probably the stupidest thing ever, because for some reason, my parents came home early, and they found out, so I had to face the

Good morning! I hope you slept well, I might need a cat nap. Perhaps tonight Ill get back into the swing of going to bed before 12, JEREMY you know I literally stare at your picture going to sleep. Once you are in bed the laptop stays in the living room. I did figure out I can zoom in though. Have you ever tried to cuddle with a laptop? I might count the blocks on your shirt if I get bored. I couldn't move up my appointment next Thursday to this Friday. blah.

People have challenges, they have an obligation to overcome constantly, whether it be; school, the daily grind, going out in public, or simply making it through their day. Here is what I have overcome as a child all the way from when I was probably around 5 until I was about 10, so about five years. During this time, CPS came around about three or four times. Due to this, one time I was at an elementary track meet and I was about to go to my favorite event, but, before I could go to my event, I got called into a room considering CPS was there to talk to me. The principal got in touch with my mother and she didn’t have any other choice except to pick me up. As we were leaving, the man followed us to our house for the reason that he wanted to inspect the house. When the man left, my sister and I got screamed at by

My son, John, embattled in virtual warfare, finds his spaceship commandeered by a rival. Such a manoeuvre strikes him as odd given the framework of a game geared to skill and ability rather than attack, aggression.

One night at a friends house, me and a couple other friends were bored and decided to make a works bomb. For anyone who doesn’t know, a works bomb is toilet bowl cleaner and foil mixed together in a two liter bottle that makes the bottle explode. Around two in the morning, we went to go get the supplies from Tom Thumb. We got back to the house and were debating where we should do it. Someone suggested we do it right across the street and being the young, dumb kids we were, we did it. After a failed first attempt, we tried again. We sealed the bottle, threw it, and ran back inside. When the bottle exploded, it sounded like the noise the playing field made in “The Hunger Games” when somebody died. Thinking nothing of it, we all went to sleep. When I woke up the next morning I noticed 4 police cars sitting right in front of my friend’s house. I knew for sure my dad was going to strangle me. It turns out, what we did was pretty serious given the fact that the Dallas Bomb Squad was called to defuse the “bomb” that didn’t go off. I got in a little bit of trouble and had to do community

Coming from a family of four and living with only my mother has been very difficult. She has been my only parent figure growing up and I have overcome endless amounts of barriers and hardships. I am the oldest in my family and required to babysit. It is my responsibility to help her out by working with her at her job because she doesn't obtain much money. My mom works at a small cellphone shop where I help her manage inventory, make payments, and solve telephone related problems. I learned how to communicate with customers and gain people skills. It has been rough balancing life at home and at school. I had nobody to look up to and felt alone. Being first generation, I felt as if I was carrying the world's weight on my shoulder. College is

Just as the elevator door started to close, several young girls wearing black leotards and sporting bright pink jackets jumped in. The bedazzled dance logo on the back of their jackets with the emblazed word Middletown Dance caught our attention. Before we could ask them a question, the elevator had reached the ground floor.

Growing up as a kid, I noticed a reasonable difference in my life where my mind grew up faster than my physical body. Maybe it was the strict rules that matured me or the high expectations instilled in me that formed my personal character. Remembering those lonely walks on my way to elementary school through the heart of a developing Desoto neighborhood and those short friendships formed on the rusted playground detailed the beginnings of my childhood. The constant dreams of becoming a successful man in the footsteps of my father clouded my head as I laid in the bunk bed of my hopes that shadowed the doubts of my developing mind. Through the ticks of time, it truthfully told the struggle of confidence and purpose as I searched for a safe haven

The years seem to fly by as you get older. Blending together the years only possibly highlighting the day you turn one year older. That moment for me was, in fact, my birthday and I could finally drive and four days later going to London. But the months leading up to that were chaos. Many people are busy throughout the year from start to finish such as sports, school work, looking at colleges, or even jobs. I was one of them; having plenty of things that would keep me busy - (most of what I liked to do like soccer, basketball, and spending time with my family and cousins, but some not so much like having the burden of housework chores).

Growing up life was rough. I came from a broken family, where my biological father who was a Colombian native born but here on papers and had trouble finding employment in Miami. He a some point gave up finding employment that was legal, that he then turned to something illegal and later faced 15 years for money laundering. While my father was doing what he believed was everything at that point possible to take care of my then teenage mother, little brother and I, my mother saw it as an opportunity to pawn my brother and I off to whoever would watch us and go out mingling with a man who later became my step father, once Marshall's got hold of my father and sentenced him. When my father left we lost everything including our mother, even though

Growing up, I never really liked children. From the crying over no reason to the whiny voices of deceitful little monsters, the feeling of overwhelmness and depression seemed to rush into me instantaneously whenever I was near one. I dreaded helping out in the nursery during Relief Society Enrichments and yearned to be free when I was stuck babysitting hyper little ones who did not seem to know what an indoor voice was and was all too familiar with screaming. The thought of having kids, let alone being near them was a nightmare. As I saw my peers coo and fuss over a first grader (who seemed to me, knew just the kind of power he had) for hours, I wandered how anyone could be so fascinated by a simple child. It was not until my Junior year that I received more than just that answer.

I felt like some of you know me one way, others in a different way. Many of you don’t know my full story. So here it is. Growing up I was always bullied and yeah it hurt, but I got through it. I was just taking what life was throwing at me. I had anxiety growing up that led to depression in about the 7th grade. I just tried my best to deal with it. Growing up I always felt out-of-place, always wishing I was older and more independent. Once I got to high school I knew things would change. But never in the way that they did. It was an instant success, well the social part at least. Everyone wanted to know what I was doing and where I was going. And oh let me tell you I’m going places. Things were different in high school I had tons of friends. All my good ones

It was December 27th 1997, as the mother looked into her handsome baby’s eyes. A tear ran down her face as she realizes this is the first and last time she sees the baby’s face, the last time she will be able to strokes her baby boys face, the last time she gets to see those eyes open. As she realizes that she won’t be able to watch him take his first steps and hear him say his first words, dress him for his first day of school, never see him grow up into a powerful young man just like his father.