Personal Narrative: My Hero's Recovery

Change is inevitable. Whether it be positive or negative, change is constantly happening. More than often change can take you from the known world and spit you into the unknown, where you return a changed person. While embarking on the journeys provoked by change, you are on a hero’s journeys. The hero’s journey was popularized by Joseph Campbell. When describing what prompts hero’s journeys, Joseph Campbell said,

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.

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.

There is nothing that compares to that last game. It makes no difference how exciting every other game is – that last one-it is like no other. Watching my daughter play the last few seconds of the North Half starter game was both exciting and bittersweet. Yes, there have been many games before leading up to this one, yet, this game seems so different. And, though this game starts the tournament and ends her basketball career, it still represents so much more.

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

In drama, story telling, myths, a religious ritual, psychological development and even in life there's a hero's journey. The hero's journey is basically multiple steps describing the adventure of “The hero”. A hero to me is someone who has courage, who did something amazing, someone you can look up to. Even though I am not a typical hero there are times when my life follows the hero's journey with archetypes such as the herald, loyal companion , threshold guardian.

I woke up on friday may 27th , getting ready to leave for school and when L got to school i saw my two best friend outside both looking really sad and i walk up to them and aaliyah was crying and i asked what's wrong, She was too sad to tell me so my other friend lexi told me “mom died” at first i thought they were joking because how could she have died and i just said how and she started crying which made me cry i just wanted to scream and later on that day i was still wondering how stephani ,how could a beautiful,29 year old single mom with three kids that was always full of laughter and joy just die a couple days from her birthday and just at all.i have known her all my life well since i was four my heart broke i literally felt my heart

I am an independent individual with my own thoughts and my own actions. Unfortunately, however, I am also a younger sister, and I would unhesitantly and mindlessly follow my older sister anywhere, whether what she was leading me to was into an established university or into an abandoned warehouse. If my older sister asked me to jump, then I would ask her how high. If my older sister told me we were going to spend our Sunday afternoon watching Aziz Ansari on Netflix, then I would bring the popcorn. We sat there, that luminous Sunday afternoon, watching the hilarious Indian comedian remind the electrified audience about the courageous travails and journeys of immigrants coming into America. My sister and I laughed as Ansari bantered about the

It ripped through my chest like a beast trying to escape its cage. I finally felt it, God was in my heart. He had released all the displeasure, grief, and hopelessness I had felt for so many years and I knew from that moment, for the rest of my living and breathing life, I needed to show others who He was and what He could do. The feeling was indescribable and incomparable to anyone else, but I could see him moving through the other students’ lives around me that night. From the first gentle touch of his love, I vowed I would follow, respect, and live a life for Him always. Since then, my journey has been the most incredible and agonizing experience that I can describe. I have faced many difficult challenges and have hit the points of break

The unfortunate event began a completely new and terrifyingly dreadful life experience in which all my previous hard endeavors of securing the structurally sound habit of dedication, commitment, and studying I exercised extensively during my senior year, with the inner weapon of possessing powerful agency to absorb material with an extreme passion and letting my heart beat madly on long-distance runs whenever possible were indeed losing their color at a quickening pace. Suddenly I began to doubt my worth and the world’s lessons soon disappeared from my unawakened consciousness. The delicate networks of improvement and inner faith were becoming swept into a tide wayward, far out to sea where the light of my touch couldn’t embrace it.

-According to the recording this has been going on for some time now – Coulson tells Thor as soon as the recording has ended.

The bittersweet defines me. These moments seem to chase me, to tear me down and build me back up. It was in Hyderabad, India. A city filled with the earnest cries of chaiwalas urging you to buy their steaming teas, the exuberance and chatter of countless people as you walked down the worn streets, the occasional herd of buffalos that seemed to give you judgmental side glances, but at that moment it felt empty. Thirty-two hours left—our flight was leaving back to Alabama.

As we stepped off the plane, there was an immediate rush of warm air when we took the stairs down to the tarmack. After the five hour plane ride in the cold, small plane, it felt nice to stretch out in the sun. We walked off of the tarmack onto the sidewalk that led to the parking garage and were immediately greeted by a kind man. He welcomed us to his country and directed us towards the correct direction. As we left him behind, he shouted “pura vida” to us. This was the first time I ever heard this phrase and I had no idea what it meant.