Essay on Personal Narrative- My Dream

So, I got lost in the middle of Silverwood in Idaho with my little cousin…

Where am I?" I was so lost, and confused. The voice tried to calm me down, and despite my confusion, it was comforting. It felt good to finally talk to someone, someone that seemed to care, and wanted to comfort me. The voice explained that I was safe now, and I could not hurt anymore. It had been such a long time since I had carried on a real conversation like this, it was such a pure feeling. A feeling of raw happiness, that I hadn't felt in a long time. Yet this whole time, I still had no idea where I was. The voice became even softer. "Can you hear the rumble that's calling?" I didn't know what this meant, but I knew one thing. There was something peculiar about the way this voice spoke. It spoke in a way that no human being would ever really speak in, almost like he was speaking in poetry. However, when he spoke these words, I was confused. I tried to understand, almost as if he was calling out to me. He wanted me to join him. He said I would be free forever, and be ridded of all of my worries, my sadness. "I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart," he spoke softly. I began to understand now, he was telling me he felt my pain, that he understood. Finally, I had found someone, someone that understood my pain, my suffering. I would pray at night just to be freed from this pain. "You're a candle casting a faint glow, but you and I see eye to eye," he claimed as he began to speak a bit louder. The way in which he spoke was difficult for me to understand,

no one in the room, but the music starts to get louder and more definite. “A voice that unites all

Then, it comes out of nowhere. The biggest climax, suddenly brought on like a wave crashing against a cliff’s edge. The oboe melody recurs again, this time less sorrowful than inviting. Come back, it sings. And the flute comes skipping over the sound, the sun rising from behind black clouds. But the melody it plays sounds out of place, lower than and not as bright as what it could be. My fingers twitch, following the flute countermelody as if I were up there playing with them—as I should be.

Out of the darkness, rivers of brilliant light and color began to flow all around her, as if a dam holding back a rainbow had miraculously burst. Then she heard the music... a melody so beautiful it tugged at her very soul. It was as if the euphony clothed her in an impenetrable blanket. She felt warm. She felt safe. Uncontrollably, tears welled up, the hymn gripping her heart, and she was forced to squeeze her eyes shut and instinctively her body curled into a protective ball.

As I walk down music note road I listen to the delightful sound of the acoustic guitars playing one of my favorite songs. Everywhere I look I see amazing artists singing. The cars are made out of old musical instruments that play relaxing jazz. The beautiful blue beach sounds like classic pop music. I ask the dj to play a song and me and my friends dance. I walk home with my friend on the piano sidewalk and look at the gorgeous guitar trees blooming in the spring. I pick the flute flowers and make a buckeye. I say hello to everyone walking by and give the buckeye to my friend. I look around this beautiful town and think I'm the luckiest person in the world. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Then I walk to music school. At school we learn

Underneath the sound of my voice is a song, “Seminole Wind.” If I still myself long enough to stop bringing my own voice and words to life, the song gives me images. The scenery that unfolds in my mind’s eye belongs to the memories of a young girl, who was so confused.

Finally, spent, I stop at a dune rising from the mostly flat sand and let the breeze wrap around me, leaning into the push of air with a smile. Music drifts from somewhere, a boat, a house, maybe my own mind and I begin to sing as I look out over the ocean.

The pain was gone. I couldn’t feel the warm goo running down my face. I was...glad...that the pain was gone. But now there was a new pain. My mind felt like it was being pulled from somewhere in different directions. “Are you alright?” Suddenly there’s a voice. The pain dulled when she spoke. Her voice was like an angel, (Yes, I know that sounds cliche) but it’s true. Her voice was as soft as a cloud’s depiction, as sweet as a butterscotch candy. She sounded like she was as graceful as a dragon in a story. No matter what she did it was a beautiful flow of movement transformed into an art. Like something you’d never want to look away from. “Don’t be shy, You’re safe now. Come, follow my voice and you shall see the grace of the clouds and the eternal light from the sun and stars above. You can see all of the beauty in the world as if you were there. Come, follow my voice, and the wonders of the world are yours to experience. “Wi-Will I see you?” I ask her. There was silence. A long pause. “If that is your wish.”, she finally said. I moved. I actually felt like I was moving, like I was walking. I started to run. The pain from my mind was dissipating. I was almost there, I could see a silhouette in the whiteness. I felt clear, at peace. It felt nice. I found the source of the voice. She was incomprehensibly beautiful. She looked down at me, her eyes were full of kindness. She smiled lovingly at me, like she knew me. I paused. “A-Are you my

My wild eyes lock onto his, he sees through me, held in the hostage of a trance. Hot tears trickle down at the new pain.

15 hospitalizations in the last 5 days have been reported in a tourist booming city along the coast of California. Many enter the hospital with swollen feet, coughing, fever, vomitting, uncontrolable muscle contractions, bruissing, and some even have their skin splitting open in random areas on their arms and legs.. Many autopsy results have shown a rare venom that is a trait to only one animal in the world throughout each of the patient’s blood.

I however, do not have experience with teaching a specific course in an accredited medical technology program, but I do have on the job experience with instructing medical laboratory technician student, second year medical students, and new employees in the field of medical technology.

There are two types of people in this world: those who take risks and those who think about it but do not. The people who take risks are the ones who make a difference in the world. The people who remain sedentary want to but they do not act. They tell themselves that they will do it tomorrow and they think they have time “for a hundred indecisions” (Prufrock). But humans are not immortal and it is time that fact is realized. People should live life to the fullest by taking risks because that is how life is measured.

There are so many languages swirling around me like a symphony, drowning me. I have learned many words, and just listen to the ones I can’t figure out, letting them flow through me. The people don’t think I can hear and see them, but then again, they don’t hear or see much themselves. The people come and go, ebb and flow. I watch and listen, but no one notices me. The people crowd in close and I get scared. Scared that they will hurt me, destroy me. I have already lost my arms. They crowd and crowd and I feel claustrophobic but then they leave, they walk away. Even after these long, many years, I have not been able to get used to the constant swell of people. I am finally left alone as the museum goes dark. The room goes silent and the lights turn off.

Then the 134 arrived. I got on, showed my pass to the bus driver and