Personal Narrative Personal Experience

As I walked outside the morning of August 12th I noticed the clouds in the distance, they were dark and ominous; I couldn’t avoid feeling as though this was a bad sign of what was to come. Then I thought, “Just my luck, I have to drive on the interstate and it’s going to storm!” There was no getting out of this though, I had to leave, so I got into my car and started driving. Pulling onto the interstate it seemed as though I was heading right into the storm, it somehow had lined up perfectly with the road. The closer I got, it suddenly hit me, the metaphor wasn’t one of bad things to come, but of the step I was about to take in life. I didn’t know what was going to happen, just that I had to keep going. Everything in my life up to this point

Well my grandfather took me to my grandmother’s work. One look and my grandmother told her coworker we are going to the emergency room. Now mind you I am in more pain than ever and really needed my

That was a lot of money, and I didnt want to let Tony down so I got in the car and started to drive. As I drove the road was empty. I had confidence I was not going o get caught. It was a slightly wormer day out witch might have been because the sun was out. I had the windows down and was blaring music just trying to enjoy life when a cop pulls out behind me.

    It was six A.M. on a beautiful yet brisk Saturday morning and I was fast asleep. Suddenly I was ripped from my blissful dream world by the incessant blaring of my alarm. Groggy, I shut off the alarm and stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast. I had a light breakfast consisting of warm cinnamon toast and butter so as to not upset my stomach during the looming Cross Country race.

In late September of 2010, was the year I learned a new word “Depression”! I was in 1st grade and everything was fun because I had no responsibilities or worries. I didn’t know how to feel grief for a long time because I was always happy. I didn’t know that a family member could own a child.

I am not one to pick up hitchhikers, it’s just not safe, everyone knows that but for some

As I approached the door, the loud sound of tears from behind the door grew onto me. I tried to reach for the door, but hesitance and uncertainty began to run through my body. For a moment, I stopped and took a deep breath that echoed into the dark, silent hall to prepare myself for what may lay behind the door. I waited. I slowly turned the knob and the door was now free. There lay my mother with her eyes slammed shut and the innocent, pure smirk that had always rested across her face before she passed away. A year later, I heard my name being screeched through the walls of my bedroom. My heart sank a million miles into my stomach, and I tried to pretend I didn’t hear my name being called. A few seconds later, my name was being squealed again

Lying on the hard gurney in that cold, stark white operating room, I could see the nurses and doctor all scrubbed and wearing their white masks and plastic glasses. The constant beeping of the monitoring equipment became louder in my ears, the cuff on my arm inflating as it was reading my blood pressure made my senses more aware of what was going on. I could smell the disinfectant, my mouth, even tasted like I had swallowed Lysol. The nurse was going over her checklist, asking me my name, asking me what procedure I was here for, and then receiving from her the details of what was going to happen. Having experienced this before with my first son Christopher, which was horrifying because I had not been ready for an emergency cesarean section,

Whenever I fight, except with the girl at the school, there seem to be a part of me that is turned off. Everything around me disappears and the only thing that matters is the person in front of me. I’m not angry with them, I don’t want to hurt them, I just don’t want them standing in front of me anymore. The bell rang and he got to swing at me once before I ducked under his straight right and hit him with a right hook. As he turned, next came the left cross followed by a straight right and he was out.

The universe sometimes chuckles at people who make plans. Not many teenagers expect relocation during high school, particularly to start off their senior year. I was one of those teens that should have. I always enjoyed my sheltered existence in a protective bubble in a place that I had lived in my entire life. The universe not only chuckled at me and my plans, it laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

A horrendous thing that happened to me was the time when I broke my foot. The positive side of that is that I learned my lesson. I was at my grandparents house about 3 years ago, and my little cousins and I were playing tag. I then leaped off 2 steps and landed on the rocks that were a few feet from the stairs. My foot started hurting horribly and my parents came to check on me. I limped all the way to the couch and had to put ice on it. We then left and I went straight home my parents did not think that it was broken or sprained. For the next 3 weeks I had went and was running and jumping on it my foot hurt continuously, especially when I had to run the 3 miles. So finally, my parents brought me to the hospital and the doctors gave me an

he first thing I did when I was first placed into my mom’s arm was wink. It was the most peculiar thing ever. She and my dad were both confused, thinking about what that wink would symbolize. Little did they know they had a daughter who would continue to stimulate their brains and logic. I was always an outgoing, awkward child. I was also very conscious of expensive things. I, as a “mature” 3 year old, once told my brother, “Anna (that’s Telugu for older brother), be careful! Is epensive( expensive on three year old speak)!” Every where I would go, I would say hello to every person that crossed my path; if a person didn't respond, I would pester them to the point that a response seemed like their only savior.

I have had many joyful and equally traumatic experiences in my life which I can easily remember. I have been through a flood, gone to emergency care in the hospital, had an allergic reaction, etc. These experiences helped shape me into who I am, my beliefs, how I speak and act around others, and they each created a separate part of my identity.

When I was 14 years old, my dad and I went rock climbing in the mountains with a friend and his son. It was the first time I had been rocking climbing anywhere outdoor. We had to hike in to the point where we could start climbing. We got to the top of the mountain and it was beautiful! On the hike down, my dad slipped in the snow and slid down the mountain. He hit a pile of rocks and broke his leg. I, being 14 and completely inexperienced, had to run down the mountain as fast as I could, while connected to a rope, to get to my dad and assess the situation. He dad had to spend the night on the mountain with our friend, while me and our friend's son were taken home by complete strangers at 3 in the morning. THe next day, I went into shock. I

“…Turn here.” He just keeps driving, completely ignoring me. “Uh sir, you missed the turn.” Just keeps driving. Then it comes into view; the edge of the road. The cliff. He’s driving right toward the cliff, going faster by the second. The last thing I see before we crash over the cliff is the man in the driver’s seat turn around; those dead eyes staring right at me.