Personal Narrative-Re-Making

I, Deputy Gough received a call reference a white Ford truck driving in the Gamester trailer court all over the roadway. Upon my arrival I spoke with David Vore and Jennifer Vore. Jennifer Stated that Randy was the driver of the white Ford truck that said, “All Good Construction.” David and Jennifer both stated that they saw the truck drive through the yard hitting a slow child at play sign and the stop sign.

Starting over. Those two simple words pretty much sum up where I am at in my life at the moment. I am a 34 year old mother of three. I have never been to college. My husband just recently left me. It has been a whirlwind summer to say the least, but before I get into what brought me back to school, I'll start at the beginning. I was born in FL., and quite literally spent all my time either at the beach or running bare foot on my grandparents farm. I loved every second. Shortly after I turned 8 my mom met my step-dad, and we were quickly headed on our first big adventure, moving to Texas! While I missed my family in FL., I can not tell you enough how happy I was that my mom married my dad. He has been a rock and solid foundation for me my whole

“Casey, your group needs to do the stunt one more time!” coach said imprudently. It happened March 26, 2015; it was at the end of a two hour practice. During the summer months in South Georgia, it is utterly hot and humid, especially in our cheer gym (a warehouse with no air conditioner); it only has two heavy-duty fans and a roll-up door. With this in mind, my group became slightly irritated. Everyone was exhausted; nevertheless we still had to do the stunt anyway.

I watch him intently as he enters my room, walking to the middle as if he owns the place. My teeth sink deep into my bottom lip, and even though this tall dressed-to-impress lumberjack is standing only a few feet from me, my mind is elsewhere—focused on the night ahead. How am I, daughter of the most hated man in the Capitol, supposed to convince people (not just one!!) to give me gifts while I’m fighting for my life? This is the question that has made camp in the back of my head, gnawing at me since the moment my name was called at the Reaping. I wasn’t worried about the imminent death, or living in a confined space with dozens upon dozens of past victors who hate my guts, no; I am most worried about being thrown to the wolves with absolutely no weapons. I can fight, but everyone needs a little help. And now, clad in an outfit that reveals every part of me I am used to hiding, I’m supposed to what, charm people into giving me free things? The tiny Cordelia in my head throws her head back in strident laughter and I curse her silently, my teeth scraping even harder at my lip.

- my chest is going to collapse.. maybe more emotionally than physically but it all feels as if the pain is real and can always be felt.

“This is a great experience, you’ll make so many new friends!” my parents told me excitedly

I read over the comments you made on the paper at least a dozen times. I took the time to understand what you correcting. I feel that most of my revisions were explaining a little more then I original did.

Recalling a time when I observed a negative action and could of done something about it was probably back in middle school. This event was when one individual was bullying a kid and talking in a negative manner to this certain individual and this cause one person to flip over a desk, but I was just a witness I would have stopped this by notify someone or telling the person to stop or calm down.

All the pictures really affected me with sadness because I could sympathize with the devastation and sense of despair they most likely felt through the storm but the picture "Post-storm rebuilding considered 'Galveston's finest hour" GALVESTON - The great storm that came roaring out of the Gulf of Mexico 100 years ago, destroying this island city and assuring its place in history touched me the most because there is always strength gained through rebuilding. No matter how hard the storm there is always a change of rebuilding.

Starting out the first year of a freshman college student is terrifying. The thought of not knowing what kind of teacher a student is going to get is wary. Meeting new people and a new environment of a class format is dubious. The first day of English 1301 with Dr. Mary Stanley felt heavy and quite because people did not know each other. How could a class like this help a student benefit them on the future? The thought of not knowing was hazardous like being drown on a lake.

On the day of incident, I was told that we had many customers than usual and the cooler was almost empty, so it had to be done in the night. Tragically, while I was stocking up one of the top shelf in the cooler, I backed up without noticing there was an open case of coke, classic longneck cans, on the floor. Mistakenly, I stepped on that open case and fell down on other inventory. After that incident, I sat in the cooler for a few minute to calm myself, and then went to sit in the office. In the result of this incident anything could have happen. For example, if I happen to hit my head, I could have lost consciousness and die in there.

So far, the actions that I have began to take have only reprocessed with one major

If I could have one 'do-over' in life I would choose the day my sister died. I spent a lot of time wondering if there was anything that I could have done differently that day that could have prevented her from dying. The doctors have told me that, unfortunately, there was nothing that I, or anyone else could have done for her. So, the only thing that I would do over would be our last few hours together. She was a curious six year old and I was an eleven year old who thought that I was too cool to be hang out with my sister at the beach. Instead of telling her to ''go away brat" or "leave me alone, you're so annoying" I would have played with her vigorously. I would splashed and swam and ran around the whole beach with her. I would have told

The company built my family just as much as my family built the company. I was inspired and intrigued by the stories that my grandfather told me. From the time i was a young child he would go on these incredibly vivid tirades about the family trade; Steel working, more specifically blacksmithing. To many this may seem like an obsolete craft but to me it was so much more. The processes of and bending and shaping a material renowned for its strength and with nothing more than a flame and a hammer. This captured my interest without any of the slightest struggle and from there it began, I wanted to learn this craft that had been burnt into the very foundation of my family.

Recalling my life as a junior in high school does not give me a great deal to look back on. But one intent that has always stood out to me, even as a young girl, is to have a positive impact on someone's life and make a difference, whether big or small. But semi-recently, my maturing mind and actions did not understand the difference between a positive or negative impact on a friend's happiness. After too long of a time not discerning my mistake of using bullying to change this friend, I finally recognized the negative impact that my actions were causing. This led me to search for a new course of action to mend my mistake. My then 15-year-old mind eventually understood that the words used as an attempt to fix a very close friend did nothing