Personal Narrative-It's As We Really Don T Work

Vehemently, I threw my myself on the bed, covered my head with pillows and screamed in pain and agony.Like a pack of wild, hungry ferocious wolves, the thoughts began to commence and every second they got louder. Like paws,every sentence clawed at my brain,every thought pierced my mind in agony,and my body began to shake. The shivers started from the tip of my fingers and cascaded straight down my gut, my body shook, and I screamed

I could feel my body temperature rising, my hands perspiring, my breathing become more rapid, and my eyes starting to feel heavy. My mind raced evaluating every sound, laugh, and conversation. I tried to act normal do what the voice made me think I should do, but there I was 11 years old sitting alone crying, trying to make it all stop.

I crippled down into a pit of confusion and sadness. Although this happened often, it always seemed to hit home hard as the months progressed. I arrived home and tossed myself into the soft comfort of my bed. Curled up into a ball, I tightened and released my grip on my white covers repeatedly, my body slowly dozing in and out of slumber as I watched small ripples in the outdoor pool shine upon my bedroom wall, the moonlight brightening it. Slowly the whispers began developing, and I allowed them. I needed to listen, they crowded my mind and maybe they were all right. So, there I sat in the silence. Jabbled words filled the room, they seemed to be everywhere. Woman, children, and men. I tensed at the words, trying to make out what they were telling me. In the background faint noises played, either from past songs the band and I had developed or ones that just kept coming. Threats or sarcastic remarks, occasional words remembered from my parents or enemies. They kept coming, intensifying by the second, getting louder and louder, until the point where... I snapped. I sat up and screamed into the darkness, pulling at my hair and kicking my feet, as if I were having some kind of a toddler tantrum. My breath quickened and my nose wrinkled, like how it always did when I got worked up. Slowly, and then all at once they stopped. My mind gathered in the silence, and I slammed back down into the pillow, turning my head into it, screaming once more until

Months on end I tried to rid the voices from the head, but my efforts were in vain. I snapped. Visions of gruesome murders flew in and out of my head. My memories were like a tangled ball of yarn. The muscles within me twitched uncontrollably; I let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed throughout the ominous night. The pain felt like something was trying to take over my body

“No, you're just going crazy. Stop hearing stuff, it's freaking me out.” said someone else from above.

We went to the front window of the office building to see hundreds of thousands of bug scurrying down the street. IT was then I realized I could not speak but now I could not hear either, as soon as I realized this I felt something coming up the back of my thought

The one time I experienced failure was last year in April. I had just finished a great indoor season and I was eager to start outdoor season. The reason why was because I wanted to accomplish some of the goals that I didn't get to accomplish during indoor season. I wanted to train hard, stay dedicated, and motivated. I started giving it my all at practice and no matter how hard practice was, no matter how tired I was I refused to give up. I told myself that this season would be a great one but I was wrong. Unfortunately, there were other plans for me, I ended up pulling my hamstring that year and not only was I devastated but I was upset. I put so much hard work and so much effort for someone to tell me that I might be out for the rest of

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As a child, I was always curious about how things worked and why they worked the way they did. I would take electronic and try to figure out what made it work. I had a knack for piecing things apart , seeing how they worked and fixing back together. My dad had a red Volkswagen golf car that had a bad door handle which had fallen apart and was no longer in use, he had managed it for weeks due to lack of funds to repair it. Wondering why it had spoilt and how I could fix it, I studied the other good door and spent my whole afternoon trying to fix this door. I had to go back some times to look at the other door to see how it ought to work and try again. Not deterred by my many failures, I kept trying. I ripped the car door upholstery

Whether taking test, or practicing for a game, there is always the pressure of utter failure. That failure can either make you choke, and get the better of you or encourage you to try again, and try harder. I recall a time when I was in the third grade, and I felt defeated. There was this program called Awana where you memorize bible verses, and play games. Within the program they had there own competition for kids that can memorize questions, and answers,

Sadly, once the Christmas tree had been put away and the New Year's Eve confetti had been swept up, I could find no excuse not to tackle my most pressing post-holiday need - losing some weight. Most adults put on at least a little weight over the holidays, and crowded fitness center parking lots every January attest to the fact that a good many want to then shed that weight, at least until New Year's resolutions are forgotten. I decided to see if I could combine my weight-loss goals with my interest in technology. I found a free app for my Android phone called Lose it!, and suddenly the dreary chore of losing weight became a bit more interesting. Lose it! is available for both Android phones and the iPhone. The app works well on my Droid

Something about me that might surprise in is that I love to take things apart. I’m curious about how things work, what makes them trick. As a child it was my toys or old junk that weren’t working and sometimes I fixed them. The question that comes to mind was “Why wasn’t it working”? What was preventing it from working? Now as an adult the question is “Is it a good design”. What details allow it to work the way it does? How can it be better? What materials is it made of? And could it have being done differently? Because of my curiosity I have a fondness for production. I love putting all the working parts of a project together. Going over the prototype, ensuing that as the components come together it’s a smooth transition, on time and within

I felt my throat start to burn, my eyes were stinging, my head was pounding and my ears were ringing. Everything hurt, and the more I tried not to scream the more I found myself wanting to. Before long, I heard myself screaming. As much as I tried not to, I did. It felt as if knives were being flung down my throat, slicing at my vocal chords with a deadly

I could feel the bird starting to sing a little louder. The conversation lasted no more than five to ten minutes before I told her to just call mom, and if she answers ask, and if she doesn’t answer, buy them anyway. For the rest of the day I was restless. I was moving from foot to. Fidgeting more than I usually do. When my friends asked me if I was okay, I would just nod my head yes. I didn’t want to tell anyone until I had a sure answer. Every minute the day went on, the song the bird was singing was getting louder and louder. Sometimes I even found myself singing

I could feel the blood pounding in my chest. Blackness crept into the fringes of my vision. My voice was hoarse from screaming; I didn’t remember screaming though.