Personal Narrative : Personal Essay

I’m ideally pessimistic, therefore I’m not easily influenced. Receiving a large amount of honor, uniquely I come off as formidable. I’m only 17 moreover, I’m just now starting to find myself. I feel as if without comfort I would perform surpassingly, accordingly I’m precisely individualistic. Throughout my childhood I’ve had various coaches not only in sports, likewise for life. Being adolescents, we imagine our parent to become our role model, opposingly I’m just now finding mine.

I was ten, the most terrifying event I had been through was riding the little dragon roller coaster at the fair, but that night changed it all. The fear that started in my head spread like wildfire to the rest of my body from the tips of my fingers to the bottoms of my toes. My heart was racing so fast that it could have beat Usain Bolt in a 100m dash. Stop, drop and roll, three steps that should have come naturally, but instead I froze, looked down at my yellow and black checkered flannel in complete terror, fearing for my life.

A cliché way to start a personal essay on why someone would want to go to into medicine would go along the lines of “As I stare towards the future with a decision to make, I look at my own personal experiences and the experiences of those around me for guidance.” Afterward, they would premise their argument by talking about at how they look at medicine as an exciting career option because it is a field perpetually at the cutting edge of discovery, continuously opening newer vistas of human thinking, and knowledge. They then would conclude their argument by talking about how the fulfillment provided in healing physical, and psychological wounds, scars, and bruises go beyond the satisfaction produced elsewhere. While this is all good and true

On February 13, 2018 at approximately 1803 hours, I was dispatched to the Walmart located at 8701 US HWY 19 Port Richey, FL in reference to a stolen wallet. Upon my arrival, I made contact with the complainant / victim, Delmarie Mangual. Delmarie advised she had been shopping at the store when her light colored rectangular wallet broke off of its strap after she had checked out. She advised the wallet fell without her noticing somewhere between the registers, the general merchandise exit of the store and her vehicle.

In the hospital, with almost all my blood lost, I was also unconscious several days. Marilyn visited me, but I do not remember that. Only a week later I commenced little by little to come down to Earth. Marilyn’s first words that I remember were, “You’re better, you will recover soon. I love you.” But I couldn’t say anything clearly for a long time, and just listened to her.

I speeded up, crossed the bridge, and headed north to Santa Clara. I was going to college. After so many years, I was still moving. Ten minutes later I finally saw it, the Santa Clara University.

It is finally Saturday and I get to catch up on all my absent work. But the sad news is that I had to stay at my late great grandmother's house on Friday to clean the house and get it ready for rituals. But it was not that tiring, but I came home at 5:30 am. And I fell asleep and woke up at 8:00 am. Then, I got ready for breakfast and made some orange juice and toasted bread. I left my house at 10 am and I has a hectic drive. So when I was entering the freeway this man shows up and starts to honk for 4 seconds straight for no reason. I found it strange because then he changed lanes and turned on his emergency lights and was driving. But after that I arrived at 2850 S El Camino Real, San Mateo, CA 94403 at 10:34 am. I called Sergeant Jin and

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.

How does it feel when you get compared to everyone else? I was compared to my friends who were in gifted classes and I felt like a follower. I felt like a normal person in a group of extraordinary people. My friends would sometimes start to brag about what they did in math that day. Until I got a great teacher who always supported me.

Walking on the street on a cloudy day I decided to go to a coffee shop. I was talking to a friend and noticed someone awfully familiar. When I tried to identify, him he walked out and I rubbed it off as not important. Then I noticed he left his wallet on his table. I dashed out the door to look for him, he was nowhere to be found. I started to wonder will I ever be able to give his wallet back?

Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.

I gently closed my father’s car door and walked alone as best I could to the cool stone etched with the two words that mean so much to me, Elizabeth Jane, my mother’s name. I know my father is watching me. He couldn’t bring himself to the place where his wife’s dead body lies and I respect that, but I could, I needed to or else I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from believing that she isn’t gone. My father agreed to bring me here, but I know him, therefore I know to watch my actions until I can fully convince him that visiting my mother is healthy in my personal journey of grieving. My father is worried for me, that much is obvious. I knelt beside her grave and my thin legs brushed the vibrant green grass. It is spring. Spring bursts with life,

It was four AM in the morning when it happened the first time, mother rapping on your knuckles to get you up for practice, you were six. If you missed a single note or were off key you received more punishment; or as Maman called it, constructive criticism. Your knuckles bleed on the white keys of the piano, you sobbed, Maman only got more enraged.

“Hey boys! Let’s go pick up trash around the park!” During dog walks around our local park, my family and I had noticed an accumulating amount of trash scattered around the park, making it look like “No Man’s Land”. Cigarette butts littered the ground like bullet cartridges and broken bottles were strategically arranged like barbed wire. My dad thought we had a responsibility to help our neighborhood, so he drafted my brother and me to pick up trash, yet the responses he heard were not from patriotic soldiers but from ungrateful eighth graders:

“Go ahead and bother the cashier while I take our bread.” my own aunt said “Today I will grab some extra honey for French toast.” We were living with my aunt since our mother left us. By we I mean me and my five sisters. We were struggling to feed everyone back then, ten people in total, and it was just as normal as people buying stuff in the store. It was considered normal for me to shoplift with my family.