Personal Narrative: My Response To Erickson

On Sunday, August 2, 2015, approximately 1805 hours, I was dispatch to Magnolia Assisted Living, 964 South Main Street, for a suspicious person report. Upon my arrival I met with the complainant, Ms. St John. St John stated a suspicious person had urinated in the back of the building and stumbled across the street. St John stated the subject walked across the street towards the Pavilion, 949 South Main Street. St John advised me he was a white male with a brown shirt, blue jeans and brown hair

Everyone on earth is defined by their core beliefs. It’s what makes us all individuals, what separates us from the others. It wasn’t until I was talking with my friend Sean in 8th grade that I started to realize that one of my core beliefs, something I was taught growing up, may not be my own belief.

The rest of what I personally think and experienced of the Big E is that it is a good place to see various country people that I like to see at concerts. Its a place to find Christmas gifts for people. The exhibit where I can see real life bears such as a Grizzly through a big picture window is very cool. People can look at the bears from close distance. My Favorite state buildings to go to are Vermont and Rhone Island. I like the Vermont one because I usually can get Cheddar cheese out of Vermont there. I go to the Rhone Island one because I have frequently been there on day trips to their beaches. So I am just a fan of the place. Those things are what I like to experience about the Big E and for all I know is what people similarly go to

I read, the final sentence, of the latest installment, of my favorite series, The Selection, by Kiera Cass; “I knew that for my sake -for my family’s sake- I had to finish my Selection. And, when I did, I’d have a ring on my finger.” I have always loved reading, that is effortlessly proven by the stack of books resting on my desk -eight and counting- that I have already read this month alone. However my favorite part of reading a book is the end. The moment that I can crawl into bed and dream of the sensory details that I experienced while reading is the pinnacle of my day. As the taste of the buttermilk pancakes overwhelms my tastebuds, or when I can smell the roses within the garden where America first meets Prince Maxon, where everything really began, I know I have reached my personal Nirvana. That is easily the best part of reading a book.

Wooden beams opened up the lofty ceiling to reveal rustic chandeliers. A marble fireplace swallowed the far wall, etched with imposing Shakespearean words. Everything was foreign; in the sea of suits too nice to be worn by 17-year-olds, my dress and heels took on an alien quality. The only women in the room were the ones standing beside me. The only people of color were the ones standing beside me. Indeed, the only public school kids were the ones standing beside me. This was Southern Bell, one of the most exclusive debate tournaments in the country. A tournament, I was informed on several occasions, I was lucky to even be attending.

One problem with Anderson? One? I could give 100s but i’ll stick to the assignment. Not only do i believe Anderson could use a lot of improving I also believe Anderson could use a lot of help improving. Me personally haven’t lived in Anderson very long but I still see some problems. I just feel like if we all came together as a team and worked to improve Anderson it wouldn’t be such a bad place.

It’s been a long night and everyone was tired. That night I had a nightmare about a dark shape in the bright background. Then, it started to take shape of a human. I got scared and felt like running but I realised that I was stuck to the floor. The darkness of the shape, started to change colour. Into a colour of a person’s skin. It started to look like a person that I knew.

When I read the descriptions in the textbook I could not believe how spot on they were. As a little girl I would have been seen playing with one other person. It did not really matter if the person was a boy or girl however. I moved around and was an only child, so I was happy just having the one friend within walking distance. At age 7 my best friend was Ian. By age 10 it was Linda. My closest friend growing up was Geri. As described on page 265, we met in middle school, and we were very close. We spent more time talking than any other activity. Even though there were others in our circle of friends, we were not as close to them as we were to each other. At that time in my life, I there was no other person as supportive and understanding as

The feeling of the newly fresh tide smell from the stack of jerseys overflows my nose. I begin dressing myself deliberately and my focus starts to be overcome by a sense of nervousness. Tying the last knot thinking how am i going to benefit my team and my teammates, but however my emotions prohibit my thinking, making me vulnerable to any mistake on the pitch. A tsunami of concerns make me think too much and lasts for an eternity.

I am here with John Daniels. John, you are giving me your permission to record this conversation, right?

"Change is hard at first, messy in the middle, and gorgeous in the end," by Robin Sharma. In general, change is extremely difficult to deal with, especially when it's moving. During the Summer of 2013, as I approached my eleventh birthday, my parents notified me that I would be moving homes. I had heard of them discussing it before, but I never assumed it would ever come true. Due to this, I was in great shock. Luckily, I would be moving locally, and would be still attending the same school I had been attending since I was four years old. Though the only thing changing was my home, I still was not sold on the idea. I did not want to leave the house I had grown up in my whole life.

There something very odd about today. I don’t know whether it’s to do with the heat, my bank balance, the future or working tomorrow, but there is something funny about today. It’s as if I should be still in bed or looking at the four walls in the living room waiting for gloom to appear like some genie from a bottle with heaps of bad news. Then I realize that it is Monday and for the past 5 weeks I have been working on a Monday and since that I ‘m not working today, that’s probably why today seems strange, empty and clammy.

This past March, I applied for a creative writer's workshop at Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts. I didn't think I'd actually get to go even if I was accepted, because the tuition was extremely expensive. But then I got accepted and they sent me an outline of the program and what my classes would be like and I knew that I would be going to Boston in the summer. I sent out letters, contacted family members, worked with my principal and several of my English teachers to get any money I could for this program. I had about three months to raise $6,000. I was in constant meetings with people and on the phone just trying to get a fifty dollars here or a hundred dollars there. In the end, I didn't raise the full amount, but I was only about

On a normal,sunny day after school school,I hopped off of the yellow-orange school bus and walked home.When I got to my house ,my parents greeted me and then said,”Mia,we have to move in about three months.”My heart dropped like an apple from a tree.I was filled with dejection.

While all this was going on, all we could do was cry, panic, pray, and tell each other everything was going to be ok, and how much we loved each other. The man across the aisle started to talk to my mom and told her that everything was going to be fine and that “ we would be okay”, over and over again. He made me think about my father, because that is what he would do in this situation, and he provided comfort in a time where only a complete stranger could. We were told over the speakers that the pilot was already on top of the issue and by the time the explosion happened we were already turned around and heading back to Texas, and that they dropped one of the fuel cells earlier. When we started to descend they told us to get into a brace