Personal Narrative-Kaitlyn

On April 26th,1999 I emerged into the world a happy baby given the name Bethany Gavin. I’m now in year 12 and I attend Cooks Hill Campus, Big Picture. My education began here in year 10 after leaving three years of home schooling and have grown as a student as the years have gone on.

“Skylar, come on! The truck is about to leave!” my mom shouted as she walked outside to the U-haul truck containing precious memories of the past thirteen years of my life. “Alright, mom!” I aggressively shouted back to her, knowing full well she would not appreciate my tone. Despite my resistance towards the events of the day, I trudged out of my bare room with the last of my Vera Bradley luggage and loaded up the truck.

Fifteen year old Keerin was stuck in grade eleven without any friends, his best friend Chantel graduated last year leaving him alone. They always talked about traveling the world and where they would like to go, they made a list of the places they would like to visit and the things they wanted to see. Chantel was starting to plan out dates to go, and how long she wanted to stay in each place, but she didn’t know Keerin was planning on coming with her. He had said one day that he wanted to go along but she refused, she didn’t want him to drop out of high school, but he was already planning it, traveling the world or not as soon as he had enough money from working he was going to drop out of school as soon as he turned sixteen he was out of

After sitting at the same desk for three years, I figured I was beyond seeing anything new I was wrong. Walking into the classroom was Carrie Underwood. My idol since like third grade. She walked in came right to my desk and handed me a poster of her. It was signed by her too! Then she told me to follow her. We got on her tour bus, my whole family was on there too. There was a concert in Orlando that I wanted to go to because she was going to sing at. So we got on a plane but nobody told me where we were going. We landed and went to our hotel and Carrie went to hers. We were just getting ready for bed and my mom said she had something fun planned for tomorrow. So I didn't really get much sleep that night but I got a couple hours if I did get

It may be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always this bald and beautiful. I, like many other young men, was a victim of a vicious receding hairline. Me being so young, I fell victim to a plethora of cruel jokes, I mean let’s face it, not many sixteen-year-old girls swoon over a young boy with the hairline like their fathers. I was constantly ragged on by family, friends, strangers, and anyone else with a working pair of eyes. Thus, I grew to be very self-conscious about my hairline, or lack thereof. Then that all changed one day with a mirror and a razor. Looking back at it, I can’t help but laugh and smile when I think about the days when all I wanted was a full head of hair.

“I’ll tell the nurse you’re here.” she opened a door and went down the hallway. The couple sat on the sofa. Soon several other family members arrived, after greeting each other, they sat down on the chairs. While waiting for news about the young couple, they made small talk, discussing the seriousness of the accident and each one relating stories about previous accidents involving them.

Aba, I've known you since the first grade, when you crushed that spider (thanks man, I couldn't stand all those squeals) and from then on I’ve been so thankful. You've made me and so many other people so happy, but this isn't about other people so im just gonna focus on you and me. So this is probably going to be long if you know anything about me you know I write a lot. So let's go back to the very beginning.

“It was my fault, okay?” His statement caused her to halt. She attempted to look at him again but her eyes focused on the clouds above his head. He stuffed his hands in his pockets before sauntering away. His hand fiddled with the wallet. She dragged herself to her dorm; her hatred for herself grew. She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking about how incredibly stupid she was. She replayed the encounter in her mind, rewriting the entire event to fit an embarrassment free one. As she blamed herself, her thief found himself at his quiet area on campus. While sitting on a bench, he examined the wallet. A tattered, russet leather wallet with ‘Marcy’ embroidered on it with blue bubble letters. He ran his index finger along each letter, tracing

My father Uriel an archangel, my mother, Elizabeth, and my brother, Castiel also an archangel. That is my family, well my real family anyways. My mother and father had never told me why they gave me up. All they would ever say is “ You are destined for great thing Jupiter. That is all you need to know” like I know what that meant. I really never fit in with my adopted family. I always looked so different from them. They still think I don't know that I am adopted but I have know since I was 13. Cas and I are twins, so we have the link that binds our .

“When I was a little kid I had a good friend who lived down the road from me. Her name was Aria Robin Hunter. I always thought it was cool she had two first names but she thought it was bothersome since she had to explain it to everyone. Aria Robin was always a very creative girl, even for a kid, she seemed to have all these never ending ideas. She was perfectly fine with being left to her thoughts even when it was because all the other kids thought she was weird. She never minded them when they saw her creations as strange alien things. All she said to the boy who told her an animal she drew was strange looking was that he simply hadn’t seen one before. She didn’t seem odd to me when we were little but I began to see her differently as we

She was always there, for as long as I could remember. Never was there a day that I wouldn’t help her cook. Be it simply mixing up dough I always helped. Every time I walked into the house, a new aroma filled my lungs. I called her Mamaya and though the origin of her nickname was never clear, everyone referred to her as that. She was my favorite abuela.

Since I was old enough to remember,every year ,the day after Thanksgiving, my father and I would put up Christmas Garland with these bright red bows on the sides of my house that faced the street. He would hap-hazardly climb the painting ladder (not meant for this task) and string the lights on hooks placed there when he first started this tradition. With this, he would call me over saying “Bow Girl! Oh Bow Girl! My little Bow Girl!”; or something along those lines. Hearing this, I would come running to him with a bright red bow ,the color of my cold cheeks, and begging to climb the ladder to give it to him ( I was an adventurous child apparently) This task, although mundane, I looked forward to doing every year , and any time he called me

I arose in a haze, baffled and confounded from the claustrophobic trains that allowed me to foresee death. The amber sun was burning a hole in the sky, my eyes competed with the vast brightness that was being emitted. I had yearned the blinding light that obscured vision, with the appreciation of clean air that empowered purity, contradicting the speculation I was perpetrating.

Going out to the arcade with Kiane for the first time was when I realized how much she

They went to the airport and got on the plane and thank goodness no one asked where their parents where. When they got on the plane they were all separated and they came up with a story we will blend in with the person next to us as our parents. Leshawna had the hardest time because the got stuck with a mother and her little baby. The blonde headed lady said