Personal Narrative: Monopoly

I love living in a small town, it gives me a sense of guaranteed safety and simplicity.

On 10/02/2017 at 0017 hours, units were dispatched to 627 Central Ave for a report of a Domestic involving a knife. I responded at emergency speed, priority one. Upon my arrival, I located the accused female in the bathroom.

Baghdad, Iraq is where I was born and raised; I lived there for about 6 years during the most pivotal years of the war. My dad left when I was about 7 months. He went to Lebanon to live for a few years before settling in the United States. My mom took care of me and my siblings. War was going on in Iraq; people walked with a dying heart. Iraq was split into Shiite, Sunni, and Christianity. Sunni and Shiite do not have any issues with one another, but there are people who do not like the Shiites and caused civil strife between the two divisions of Islam. My family is Shiite and we do not believe in a separation between anyone because we are one, they are

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

The cheer of the crowd and the laughter of the kids in the air were the only things reminding me that it was just a game. Eight and a half innings, seven pitching changes by both teams, twenty-seven runs scored in all, and we were still losing. The sweat came dripping off my nose and forehead like melting ice. My eyes stung, and I could barely keep them open due to the bright rays of the sun beating down on the dirt and grass, the baseball diamond seemingly larger than it had been eight and a half innings ago. My coach’s whisper rang through my ears. “Only if you think you can,” he said so softly that I had to almost lean in to hear what he said. I was on third base, with the winner of the game was being decided by one out. We had made

I always find myself staring blankly at my computer screen. The cursor flashes, mocking me, and the only word I have written is ‘the.’ I close my eyes, trying to think of all the things I did over the summer and in the past four years, and somehow, my mind only draws up the lyrics to Beyonce’s “Run the World.”

Franklin Delano Roosevelt once stated, “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” This quote is a historical quote from World War II; however to me, its significance goes farther than that. This quote is the story of my transition from a child to an adult. I had a phobia of addressing large crowds; the fact that everyone’s attention would be on me was abashing. This was true until I reflected on how my phobia was keeping me back from a lot of opportunities, such as class presentations and future public speaking events. After deep reflection, I made the courageous decision to audition to speak at my eighth grade promotion ceremony. This was quite a leap for an introvert such as myself; however, I persevered my way through the audition and won the role as the MC. The valiant decision to speak at my promotion ceremony has shaped who I am and what I am able to accomplish today.

I headed out first,swimming my way back onto land,I screamed as I felt myself get scooped out of the sea by some men and women,scared that the man in the blue car had returned. But these men and women were dressed in hazmat suits but without their helmets on. They looked over me as if they were scientists,asking me and each other several questions. I couldn't muster out any words, I was terrified, I wanted Craig to help me but I was terrified of what they would do to him. This part of the dream is very spacey and is chopped up. I hardly remember most of it. From what I can remember after they’ve finished me out of the water. They place me in this building, this building filled with children. They all looked genetically modified or something,

Hello! I hope everyone is having a great day/afternoon/night. I’m Mayra Barragan, I’m Mexican, so yay tacos and burritos! No, I’m just playing. I do love tacos, but believe it or not, that’s not all we eat or that we tremendously adore. I am the type of person who would rather keep to themselves than socialize and attempt to make new friends because I’m not so good at it. Singing, drawing, decorating, crafting, listening to music, reading and writing are not only my hobbies but some are also my passions. English is my absolute favorite subject because the ways we can utilize it are endless and can also be very creative.

It was a peaceful day in a crummy condo. My brother and I were sitting in his room. I had AP Social Studies homework and he had 7th grade English. He was in the middle of asking me a question when a gust of wind came through the closed window. I kind of, how do I put this, a noise. A very dim, subtle noise. A ZING, SWOOSH, SHUUWAH noise. And out popped two people. A man and a woman. They looked at us in a passive, easygoing way, and the women said to us in a soft, calm voice, “We are your parents. And want to take you home”.

One Thursday night in August, I was sitting down thinking how I have not called my dad in a couple of days. So I picked up my phone and dialed his phone number.

Behind the curtain of incessant smoke, Oppenheimer could look out the window of his Los Alamos home and see trees and grass, unnatural- looking in the midst of a rust-colored desert. New Mexico was more alive now than it would ever be.

After everything that has happened, it was finally over. The sky was dark with rain and cracked with lightning and thunder, bodies littered the ground turning it red with blood. On this battlefield laid Zya Kage, the leader of the rebellion against the king of her homeland. The war raged on for hours, maybe even a day, Zya couldn’t remember. The wound on Zya’s stomach bled and soaked the ground below her with blood, her vision began to fade in and out , she could hear the sounds of yelling and screaming soon began to dissipate from her hearing. Then, as soon as she closed her eyes and let the darkness along with the pain consume her. She heard someone yelling, but it was a lot closer now. She felt hands pressing against her wound, she could see a faint silhouette kneeling beside her, but before she could see who it was. She felt numb and her vision went dark.

Its February 13th, it is a cold snowy night, I am just getting out of my basketball game. I have tons of missed calls from my mother and sister. I get in the car I call back no one answers, so I start to drive home. I received a call back, it is my sister. I answer “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I can tell she has been crying. She answers back with her sad voice “I will tell you when I get home. I am at the hospital right now.” “I am right by the hospital I will come there. Just tell me what happened.” I am thinking in my head of all the possible things that could have happened. She says “Jeremy died.” “Are you serious? How?” “I will tell you when I get home.”