Personal Narrative: Is It Hard To Read?

My tear-stained face started to show anger. I couldn’t believe what my mom was saying!

Now we couldn't see anything. It was hard to breathe. Me and my friends were all next to each other trying to find our way back. It was impossible because we couldn't see which way we were going. One of my friends said ¨I can't breathe!¨ all of us said it's ok we're gonna make it. Then my friend died in front of all of us. My friends started to die one by one, I saw them all die right in front of me. Then I realised that I wasn't gonna make it, so I started to cry because all my friends were dead, and I was about to die. Then someone came to me and said ¨Can you breathe.¨ But it was too late. As the guy came I suffocated to death. Well, I thought I was, but then I woke up in my house. I thought I was dead. It turned out that the guy saved me somehow. I don't know how he did, but he did. Everything was back to normal except for the fact that my friends

The reason i started painting and drawing in the first place is i found that i am truly happiest when creating. I thoroughly enjoy the struggle of drawing and painting scenes or ideas created through imagination. Creating art was never about money to me, it was about seeking happiness and a sense of purpose.

Many people say they hate reading, but I believe everyone has the potential to love reading, they just need to find the right genre or series to look under.

Being biracial is such a unique experience and has a lot to do with the person I am today. Growing up, I did not completely realize how it would shape me as a person. Now that I am older and looking back on past experiences, I know exactly how it has impacted me. There were many times where I felt uncomfortable and confused, because I was different. That has all changed now that I recognize that the differences are what make people beautiful.

Dan threw his backpack in the back seat of Phil’s seat, plopping down in the front seat and slamming the door. “Dan, what’s wrong? Why did you ask me to pick you up?” Phil was concerned.

My earliest memories of reading start when my mom sent me to Christians studying school at six years old and the mentor would read out a handbook on heroes

I pull my knees closer, trying to shut out the cold, although even as I do so, I recognize the futility of the gesture. I can’t preserve heat like this, trapped in a metal husk with nothing but the clothes on my back. The unyielding sheet of steel that’s been keeping me upright for what seems to be centuries was not meant for man—merely machine.

Today while talking with my friend about this, she told me that both her son’s eyes are lazy. He is five, and he has trouble looking at things straight, and he has to tip his head back to see things straight. Now that he is five he should be ready for his surgery. I think that it would have been interesting to know someone that did. When she talked about the prism she had to get in her glasses, I use to have that. Mine was not that bad, but it was so weird looking through my glasses. After wearing them for over four years, now I do not wear them at all. It took me a while to get use to them. When reading this story I was trying to picture what it would be like looking through her eyes, and what she was missing. My feeling about when she was a baby, and the doctor said it would fix itself, was upsetting. Sue’s parents, even though at the time this was the best advice for them, they could have had a second opinion. As Sue got older she started doing a great deal of work with eye exercises. She was doing taxing fusion exercises for twenty minutes a day, and with doing this she started to perceive depth at a greater distance. It is really wonderful that she went and researched her eye conditions and took the steps to fix

While me and my mom were waiting on Dr. Amanda to come back with the test and to tell us what she had seen from the scans of my eyes, my mom and I were talking. My mom asked me,” Tay, honey what can you not see?” I told my mom what I couldn’t and could see. I finally came out and told her I have been having trouble seeing to read, seeing the stuff on the board at school, and watching Tv. My mom started asking me questions like “how long has this been going on” or “why ain’t you told me before now?” I looked at her and said, “Because, Momma, I’m scared. You know I love to read that’s all I do, and I’m afraid I can’t read anymore, I’m afraid I’ll go blind and can’t do anything that I like. And that I won’t have any friends anymore.” Dr. Amanda came back and said, “We are sending you to UVA in Charlottesville to have more test done, they are more enhanced and they hadthe technology that we do not have in Wytheville.” A few weeks later my eye doc called Momma and told Momma that I had a disease in my eyes called Stargardts and that they weren’t sure what it was so, they set up an appointment up at

My whole entire life I have been struggling with reading. I have always been in classes to help me read because I was two grades behind where I should have been. Teachers thought that I was just a slow reader and needed help. I had tutoring to try and help me get up to my grade level but it never worked. I would get mad and be embarrassed to be in those classes and always give my mom a hard time. This all started in elementary school. I would have to stay in during recess to get help. Then in middle school I was getting pulled out of class to get help with reading from a reading specialist. Still nothing was working. Once I got into 8th grade they gave up on me and said that there was nothing that they could do to help me. I got into high school

she was. Once, everyone was awake and dressed at 8 o'clock we went over to the main lodge to find our friends Chris and Lynda Schatz, with their friend Tim Isbell already eating. It seems that it’s always a buffet here with the same thing as yesterday, but there was hash brown shredding's instead of squares, and I once again had cinnamon rolls, apple juice and bacon, excluding biscuits because they were just nasty. We ate our breakfast and chit chatted, but while we were doing that the weather turned nasty, and the wind was howling much more than it had yesterday.

Also, the school nurse wanted my dad to watch me for some time when I got home. I had taken a nap, then reviewed my lines to record the video, but I was slowed down because of the medicine. The reaction had gone away and I was fine later, but was still feeling sleepy because the medicine lasted a pretty long time. Then, when it came time to record the video my dad was watching me to see how I was doing and see how well I had prepared for this project. My dad kept going so I can actually get some work done since I had left school early that day. There were long pauses in which I tried to remember my lines. But I had got through it and that is all that mattered to me because it was like a huge weight was lifted off my back. The following day, I recorded another performance in my opinion that was ten times better than the previous. I had used a toy sword to keep my attention and focus, without staring at the camera

Growing up, my vision appeared to get worse and worse every year. Until I was in first grade I never thought to told my mom, considering it never caused any problems. It was until I would find myself squinting at the board everyday did my teacher wonder if something was wrong. Shortly after, I found out I needed glasses. From first grade to tenth grade, I went through multiple pairs of glasses, and my vision continued to deplete. I never complained about having glasses because they rarely got in my way. That was until high school, when I started running. Trying to sprint with glasses on can be extremely challenging. It took me two years to finally get the courage to get contacts. As someone who struggled with getting contacts in everyday over the summer and struggles now, I want to help those who go through the same conflict.

I felt a pinch in my eyes and imagined the ordeal. I never knew they