Personal Narrative: Machetes

It was near the end of my 8th grade school year, about 2 month away from graduation, when something I never expected to happen actually happened. This event really changed my life forever and shaped me into who I am as a person today. I had just arrived at my house after school when my parents received a call that my grandma was ill and that we should come down to check on her. As we rushed down to my grandparents house, my family was deeply concerned about what may have happened because my grandma had never really had many health issues before this. As we arrived at their house and walked through the door, we were greeted with the sight of my grandma sitting in a chair with a blanket around her while she was sleeping. My family’s first reaction

Machismo is a rather popular Spanish word meaning strong or aggressive masculine pride. I know this word so well that we could basically move in together because I have seen it take life before my own eyes for years now by my no one else but my father. This word has brought pain and suffering to my mother and by doing so has also inevitably harmed me. This word has shown me the ugly and the mean. But, this word has also shown me what I am and what I will not be and for that, I am grateful.

There are only two people in this school who I can enjoy hanging around in school, not including Hope or Felix of course. Those two people were Cendric and Silica. They where twins who had moved to this area just a few years ago. They both shared hobbies with me, including reading, VRMMO's, anime, and above all some peace and quiet. Nothing beats some peace and quiet every once in a while.

Twas a dark and stormy night. Little twitches of fear ran up my spine as I realized that there was no one to help me. I peered out the window of my broken down car and looked at the brewing storm ahead. Alone in the middle of nowhere. Alone. What was I going to do? My phone was dead, the roads were empty, and it wouldn't stop raining. Worried about being stranded here all night, I got out of my car to find help, but all I saw was a shadowy figure. I yelled, “Please help me! I am stranded without a way to get home.” I blinked to see it right in front of me, but rather than being a human, it was a creature with a machete. It kinda looked like the Grim Reaper. I ran back into to the car filled with fright. Just as I thought I was safe, I looked to my right

It was a cool November day, in the middle of Afghanistan. As a medic, I was sitting outside my make shift aid station with one of my buddies sharing stories about home. We hear a loud explosion right outside of the wire. I looked up and could see the cloud of smoke billowing up from about two hundred meters away. Not knowing how bad the situation was, I grabbed a few of my soldiers, our translator and my aid bag and ran straight to the smoke. When we got there, a group of civilians were huddled around a group of people who were yelling, screaming and crying. The translator found out that a group of three men and three children were walking around a field when one of the children stepped on a mine. One of my soldiers grabbed the mine

She carries symbolic bracelets and tangled up headphones and torn playbills. She carries crumpled sheet music, a highlighted play script, a rusty gun and holster, an old calculator, worn out journals for writing fragmented lyrics, passionate feelings, unforgotten memories, and so much more. Twice or three times a week she carries packets of law and a lunch that was packed that morning. She carries a water bottle that is always half empty, or much like herself, half full, depending on how you see it. Wyatt carries the priceless shark tooth necklace she gave him, locked away somewhere unknown. Hannah carries the cheap but meaningful books that she gave her, unread but still valued. Her mother carries the candy she gave her, hard but sweet, a reflection of her soul. Something they all carried in common, was that they all carried something that was given; taking turns, they carried pieces of her shattered heart.

I wish I could tell you all of this in person but I know if I try I’ll probably get very nervous and forget some small details that I would really like to tell you, and those are probably the most important to me. I saw you for the first time on February 23 at the valentines party, and that was such a fortunate thing to go to because I was able to get free food, have a good time, see old friends I haven’t seen since last semester, but most importantly I was able to see you. I didn’t know who you were at the time, but I knew you were like a very sweet, funny, caring, smart, and very beautiful just from your appearance. I first noticed you when you sat across from me when we were playing charades, and that’s when I knew that I wanted to get to

It seemed as if we had only been at school for about an hour before it was time for

Why didn’t my dad want to hang out with me? Why didn’t he want to take me to the movie? I was so angry with my life I had no one I was in a new town with no friends or a car to drive around in. I knew at this age that these scars would never heal.

“We don’t have anytime time to waste today guys, get moving!” my mom announced. My brother was coming today and she wanted the house to be spotless. We had just started fall break and I was in the fourth grade. I was playing games and relaxing like any 10 year old would do. My dad was lounging on the couch watching some show, and my siblings were running around. By then I had only 5 siblings, 2 sisters and 3 brothers. We had known for a while that Johnny, age 9 at the time, was coming to live with us, what we didn’t know was that he would bring with him a fish. I was happier than a child opening presents on Christmas. The fish was a beautiful white male betta with long flowing fins. He lived in a small 1 gallon tank with blue pebbles, pointy

Divorce. A shaping tool that impacts the child’s future immensely. With no additional income source, my fresh off the boat mother had to work constantly to keep the bowls filled with rice. However as a direct result, I would have to take care of myself as my mother was rarely at home. My strict mother would never let me outside so I filled my time with video games. Alone with my video games, no one can question my actions or behavior. With only a mother as a role model, I develop a feminine personally. I thought I was just a normal boy, and growing up with this mentality became problematic. Combined with my mentality and higher pitch voice, people would make fun of me and never took me seriously. I never understood why causing me to stay in

Her fingers traced the binders that line the wall, skimming the countless hours they had taken to compile; they stopped promptly upon one labeled, “reminders.” She drew it from the wall and took it to her desk. The wood was heavily worn, its user having spent obsessive nights and days perfecting each piece of work that met its face. Her eyes stared at the page, three boys pictures were smiling back at her with contempt. The smell of cigarettes came from these photos and the details listed below them, vivid descriptions of their lives and personalities. The tallest of the three was sandy haired and grinned, showing off yellow-stained teeth that should have belonged to a middle-aged drunk. His arms hung low to his waist and his legs added to

I am not one to pick up hitchhikers, it’s just not safe, everyone knows that but for some

I have not always been a Christian, growing up in an isolated part of Tennessee were families lived apart from each other, Jesus was not a household name that was spoken of. We didn’t pray or nor did I see my parents pray. This became a resonating tradition in my life. Though I was very close to my mother and really didn’t interact with others, it created in my mind an introverted person. This created a covering of my feelings and started me on a downward fall in my life. Our family didn’t go to church, so it became a part of my belief system, so I continued to live my life as if nothing else matters outside of my family. I was gifted in many things, but I drew to my talent of Basketball and focused totally on it. The adrenaline and desire

We were frantically doing everything in our power to contain the fire. Chainsaws were buzzing, fire lines were being dug, and I could hear Eric screaming into the radio for the VLAT to, in his words, “Hurry the **** up and drop the retardant to try and keep the fire at bay!” Never before had I ever been this close to being burned alive – a close second would’ve been when me and Chris had been trapped in the brush and just barely had managed to escape. I could feel myself sweating like a dog, and I inferred all my brothers were too. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, my knees felt weak, but I pushed on, maybe out of desperation for my life, maybe for the lives of my brothers, maybe even both. It wasn’t looking good, though.