Personal Narrative: Mrs. Jones

“If, when you’re older, someone comes knocking on your door asking you some heated questions that you’re not sure how to answer, just stop and say “I want an attorney” and they’ll have to provide you with one as a basic right,” she stressed.

“Hello. I will need you to fill out these papers and turn them in and the doctor will be ready in a minute.” The receptionist said. My mom, dad, and I sat down in the quiet waiting room as my mom filled out the papers I began to fell more

Writer called Constance to find out if she has heard from the Visiting Nurse Association (VNA). Constance said yes and that they scheduled to meet on the 9th of this month. Constance said she will be seeing her pain managing doctor on the 8th. Also Constance said Medicaid approved for her to use long term care. Care manager was glad to hear that. Constance promised to update care manager after the

After she had hung up, I tried to call Lester again, but I still didn't get an answer. I prayed for Imani and hoped that she didn't lose to much blood.It seemed like every red light in town caught us. I was panicking, and at one point I wanted to get out of the car and try to run to my mother's house. I begged for the light to turn green so we could go but as soon as it did an ambulance shot through from the opposite direction with the lights flashing.

As high school freshmen, most kids do not get very excited about walking into their College Preparatory Biology class, but I sure did! Everyday I looked forward to Mrs. Wilson's 3rd period biology lesson because she never disappointed. Mrs. Wilson was a special kind of teacher, she was the type to turn boring lectures into a captivating learning tale and had the gift of making tests enjoyable with her creative illustrations. Yes, you read that right, I enjoyed her tests. One day, Mrs. Wilson presented us with a demanding project; “Okay class, I am challenging you to create the BEST “Bunnimoose.” she announced. As we sat there with puzzled faces, she went further into explanation.

When I was in my sophomore year of high school, I had a music teacher named Ms. Valentine who taught vocal and piano classes. Ms. Valentine was known as the “mean dad” of the vocal department, because she oddly reminded everyone of a dad instead of a mother, I know it’s weird. She never took the phrase I can’t from a student, and she would never put up with anyone’s bullshit. She believed there was no such thing as “I can’t”. I had the pleasure of having Ms. Valentine as my choir director, sadly. Ms. Valentine was known for assigning students to critique boring plays and concerts.

Their mother had awakened. Cleo gasps, carefully sending her arms around her mother. While embracing, her mother glanced over to her arm to see the injection marks made on her. In the distance, she saw a needle that had been recently used laying on the floor next to the nightstand.

As part of the greater push at that grade level to introduce kids to a greater depth of books, Mrs. Oak created a game that would award points based on the number and length of books that you read, with a prize being given to the winner at the end of every month (usually candy). Now being the clever nine year old brat that I was, I decided to game the system by quickly flipping through a great number of small children’s books every day. While this did put me ahead on points, I was completely avoiding the entire point of the game. So to Mrs. Oak’s great credit, she decided to limit the number of books I could check out of the school’s library to three per week. With my lead in the literary scoreboard slipping away, I checked out a book that

“M-m-my mom, she passed out and won’t respond,” I said trying to keep myself steady.

lost a lot of blood.” “Oh my gosh, she’s that bad?” ask Pam. “Yes, I’m afraid to tell you that she was sexually assaulted multiple times and badly beaten, looking at her wounds, she’s been out in the woods for days because she’s very dehydrated, whoever did this probably thought she was dead, but when she was brought in to us she still had a pulse.” “So, is she going to make it?” “At this time like I said, she’s very critical, we’re doing everything we can to save her, but we have to just pray.” “I can’t believe this, who would do this.” “Well Maam, if you have any concerns or if you need to ask me any questions ask the nurse to page me.” “Thank you Doctor.” “You’re quite welcome.” The Doctor got up and walked away. After the Doctor walked

During this time, Chris had called his mom and informed her about the situation. She drove to my house as quickly as possible. Chris, my brother, and I got into her car and she drove us to the urgent care. Chris dad, Dr. Nelson is the head of the urgent care, so Mrs. Nelson called him on the way there and explained to him what happened and how bad the cut was. She raced down the roads and got me to the urgent care hastily. My brother had notified both my parents about the scene, so my mom was waiting for us at the urgent care. They carried me inside and wheeled me into a room.

Have you ever known someone who acts tough but is actually very nice? In the story thank you ma'am, I noticed that even if Ms. Jones seems tough on the outside, in the inside, she is very empathetic. This is because she can relate to the boy, she cares for the boy, and she acts tough.

Mrs. Price’s reaction makes me feel five and even more angry. In the hallway, I am fuming so I push her. She doesn’t expect it so she drops like a rock to the floor. She starts to cry and says, “ I hate that sweater too and am embarrassed that it belongs to me! It itches and smells like tomato juice!” All of the sudden, I feel really bad, and help her up. I decide to ask Phyllis if she wants to come to my house for my birthday party. She says, “Yes.”

Meeting Mrs.Jones has changed my life tremendously. She taught me that stealing from people can really hurt them. It hurts them because they have to provide for their families as well as themselves. Mrs.Jones also told me that she wanted things as well as a child, and we talked a little bit about her childhood life. I tried to steal Mrs.Jones purse because I wanted to get a new pair of blue suede shoes. Not knowing that she had a huge family of her own to take care of, deal with, and certainly provide for. After, that we had a discussion and she took me to her house to wash my face, and she also fed me. While, I was sitting at the dinner table she gave me $10, so that I could buy the blue suede shoes. When, walking out of that door, all I could

Boom, ‘Ms. Jones run it’s after you’ yelled Billy. ‘Help why does every one want to get me. All I did was rob a bank with my side kick Billy who I pay not to turn me in for robbing banks, high jacking cars, first degree lama side, smuggling animals across the border, helping people escape jail, throwing the mayor and president off a helicopter almost killing them, and I blew up 1 or 48 states’.