Personal Narrative: My Hero's Journey

Zachari's grandmother showed the QP the court documents the probation officer left that reports he has 20 hours of community services, have no contact with the co-defendants, curfew set by the parent, and contact with his probation officer.

I pulled my hair up into a pony tail and slung my purse over my shoulder before responding to him.

What would happen next?!  She began to go down, she put one foot down on the next step.  The ladder began to wobble Chu-yi, holding on tightly stops moving ,and the ladder is still.  Chu-yi knew that could have been bad.  She makes it half way down the ladder while her heart is beating like a drum.  Chu-yi starts to hum the swift birds's song to calm herself. Bang, Chu-yi hears the sound and hurries down the ladder.

After I met with the Knights of Columbus, I drove out to my aunt’s place. As we ate lunch, she said, “You know your father was kicked out of the Knights for arguing with the pastor over the parting of the Red Sea,” and she went on to tell me the story. He said an asteroid landed in the Mediterranean Sea, and it had an affect like dropping a rock in a puddle. It pushed the Red Sea into the Gulf of Aden, and by the time the Egyptian Army entered the Red Sea, the waters were returning to their normal elevation.

I never realized how boring and long a car ride could seem when you’re anxious and excited for what’s to come. I never knew what waited down the path I chose, and how easily something can be lost. These events led me to the way I am today and whom I want to be in th future.

A mysterious yet beautiful unknown hidden world to human eyes which held the deepest, shimmering eternal blue, just like the finest sapphire jewels or the prettiest earth flowers, hidden deep beneath the dark crystal waters. I was born in these waters, and to the ocean is where I will return and die. I closed my eyes, as I turned my face to the wind. The warm, gentle breeze caressed my bare ivory skin, as I felt the warmth and feeling return to the edges of my fingertips.

It has been two years since you passed. It has been a year since I unearthed your vacant coffin with Oskar. Yet, it has been less than a second since you came to my mind. A day has yet to pass where I do not ponder of you, imagine you. I have seen pictures and heard stories of you, yet it always pains me that I could not have a place within them. I know nothing of you, my own child. In fact, I cannot call you, Thomas Schell, mine. There is nothing of me in you, and that will always be my deepest regret. If I had two lives, I would spend them both with you, as if that would somewhat compensate for the unjust life I forced upon you. A life without a father. Though, a boy need-not be raised by man, when a woman as sturdy as your mother is in place. I

Do you ever sit and ponder, what would I do with an express ticket anywhere your imagination could take you? My first thought was let’s go to Hogwarts, but as I sat and thought about it. An express ticket beyond my imagination? I know exactly where i’d go, or when i’d go.

There was a strong pungent of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol as she was rushed into the lobby. Crying out her last breath to express her agonizing pain as she lied down on the cold gurney. The nurses in a light blue uniform quickly arrived as several doctors in long white gowns rushed to the scene. Her mother was by her side, holding her hands as tight as she could, as the nurses pushed the agitating gurney towards the automatic doors. Soon her visions blurred and as the world turned into a tint of pink and red. As her vision slowly darkened, she solely relied on the touch of her mother’s warm hand and her soothing voice. Notwithstanding the tight grip of her mother’s hands, they was soon torn apart. Fear took over her body as she cried even louder. The sudden yet rhythmic beep was the last memory she could recall. It was March 5th.

While she lie staring at the cosmos painted on her ceiling, she remembered her question about the crime scene. Just her luck; she had left her things downstairs. There was not an ounce of willpower to persuade her to move. A groan of a new caliber of grief left her throat. She’d found herself rather comfortable in her current position, and the idea of moving was less than appealing. She knew if she moved she would never again acquire the comfort that she felt at that moment. Moments like these brought to her childhood dream of having telekinesis. While she was incapable of moving objects with her mind, she did have a brother.

I don’t remember my name, or most of my early life, but I know I was a thief. I was part of a group of thieves, five of us. “Do you remember where you’re from?” A village called Greenbridge. I don’t know how far it is from here. “Greenbridge?” Why, does it sound familiar? She hesitated. She didn’t know him, but if she was going to help, she had to give him reason to trust her. Besides, it might feel good to finally tell someone. “It’s where I’m from. I did something there that I’m… not proud of.” That makes two of us. “What did you do?” You mean, besides abandoning everyone I care about? My wife, my little girl, my friends? “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” It’s fine. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve done a lot of thinking. “Pardon me for asking, but what happened to you?” Now that’s a story.

He longed to see what his touch would do against anything, but Jem wore gloves, and Alistair was scared.

I've been sitting under this tree for a while as I await the rains to pass. The sun hides behind the endless blanket of storm clouds; a precipice ahead builds with water, and will flood if the rains continues.

As I was walking, kicking dirt behind me, the sound of large boots startled me. Making me walk faster. I continued up the trail then ever, my heart racing almost as if I had just ran a one mile race. I told myself it was all in my head,because normally that helped. The sound got, louder until it was in my ear. I spun my head around only to see nothing. Pleased I turned around and continued to walk. My normally quiet and playful dog, began to bark and stop dead in her tracks.Almost as if she was yelping for help.

Sirens blared as we raced across the Sahara on horseback. With the reins gripped tightly in my hands, I was flying. Nothing could stop us. That summer, I was Indiana Jones and she was Marion Ravenwood. Trek’s hooves engulfed me in a wave of dust as they rolled across the hard sand. Then suddenly the sounds of the sirens transformed into that all too familiar whistle—it was dad calling me home for dinner. I tugged the shoelace that doubled as reins and turned my bike around to make my way back home.