Personal Narrative: Second Place

We gave it our all at the practices leading up to Tuesday’s game. The practice before the game was an especially hard one, I remember that my two friends, Lucas and Mathew made a bet about who would win. Lucas didn't believe that the team had what it takes to win, while Mathew had confidence in our team. The night before the game, I laid in bed not being able to sleep, I was too nervous about tomorrow’s game. “What if we lose?”, “What if we win?”, “What if…”, these were all thoughts going through my mind. I woke up the next day, exhausted and sore from yesterday, but confident. That day, time moved slowly. Each class felt like

A couple of months later competition season came and I was so nervous to go out there and perform in front of a lot of people. After the first

After meandering around for a while, it was our turn to practice. We trekked down the long corridors down to the field and performed to the best of our ability while out coach looked on, scrutinizing out every move. "Remember, there aren't many of us so if we want to place we need to make sure that the quality of the routine is outstanding," she reminded us. All of our grueling 6:00 practices weeks in advance had lead up to this. In just a few moments we were going to perform in front of the slew of stern judges. Rehearsing our routine beforehand, however, did little to fend off the anticipation we all

The next seven minutes could determine what my 7th grade year will look like. 11 other girls, competing for seven spots on the JAJH Cheer Team. My hands were shaking, and I was so nervous inside. What if I don’t make it? What if I make myself look like a complete fool? Falling on my face, tripping, doing the wrong cheer, all of these factors were racing through my mind. But I had to plaster that smile on my face, black shorts, white shirt, bow, tennis shoes, I was ready. Routines rushing through my head, one after the other, over and over. Five, six, seven, eight, one… Three days of practicing and learning the material for those next seven minutes.

I’ve been dancing my entire life. I started by tap dancing when I was three years old, then later moved on to different styles of dance. However, the first day of my audition for an actual dance crew was kind of intense. I remember walking into a room full of talented dancers and completely doubting myself. It gave me a strange feeling in my stomach. I felt like throwing up, but I knew I had to suck it up and get through it. It made me nervous knowing that I was one of the last ones to audition. As soon as I got up on that stage, it was like all my fears suddenly switched off. I danced my heart out and gave it all I got. I got a call a few days later and they had told me that I made the crew. Since that day, I have never doubted myself in

After six months of hanging on by a thread, I finally found myself on a National stage. The music started and my worries dissolved under the heat and humidity of the stadium lights. I did exactly what I had done at practice a million

My body was shivering with fright my mind had so many questions. The weird thing is that I smelt was something that smells familiar, but I forgot what it was. One thing that I was sure of is that I was moving in car and my feet and arms were strapped down to the seat and my eyes were blinded by a bright light in my eyes. I had a lot a of question in my brain like where am I, have I been kidnapped, and is my family ok. Then I here my father calling me “Zeke, Zeke, Zeke where are you. Then suddenly I can finally see I open my eyes and see Stanley Park it was breath taking it was like seeing the northern lights. My dad finally untied me from the seat I shook my head because there was so much fog I could barley see anything I thought I had brain

Hiro didn't attend school that day, emotionally and physically drained by the past few hours. The pattern repeated the in the two following days until the week had come to a close. One day of wallowing in grief was turning into a weekend affair. This was the kind of anniversary no one wanted to remember, but the squeezing pain of loss made itself known regardless.

Listen to these wise words from Eric Tomas he once said that “when you want to succeed as bad as you want to breathe, then you will be successful”. You have to be willing to sacrifice it all, go all the way to the end don’t stop don’t look back, when you begin feeling it’s too hard or I can’t do it no more, recall each one of those individuals sitting out there that told you, you couldn't do it, you’re just an ordinary athlete. But you said no I will prove you wrong I will win, this is why I have recurred you out here. Stick together as a team, draw all your energy put it together, to make yourselves and your bond more stronger so nobody can get passed you, as a team, we need to think as one .Paving the way to this moment ponder who are you, consider how far you have needed this minute, those incalculable hours in the gym and on the field, working day and night, working beyond your limits, this is your time, and your time to shine together. Get out there and show everyone how hard you have been preparing for this day. I believe in each and every one of you individuals, we will win, and we will take the trophy home, gets

I rubbed my well rested eyes, crawled out from under my warm, cozy covers and stretched my replenished body. It was a sunny, Friday morning, and the air was thin. I walked into the living room: Our living room is your average sitting area, two couches and two chairs. I found my brother sitting on one of the two couches, looking pale and haggard. As I walked toward my brother, he seemed to be slightly apprehensive. I paused for an abrupt second and I suddenly felt as if I had entered a scene of one of Nicholas Sparks’ many tragic, heartfelt movies. I didn’t paused for long because tears started rolling down my cheeks. And now all I’m thinking is, he can’t be gone?

It is a warm May night, and I couldn't be any happier. I am sitting in the middle of the Gwinnett Arena anxiously waiting to hear my name. "Look someone is waving the Mexican flag up there," the guy next to me said as he points to the audience. I turn around to see, and realize it's my family. I wasn't embarrassed at all. Actually, I was happy to see the excitement on their face. They call my name, and I go up to get my diploma. "WOW! I MADE IT," I think to myself. I immidiately wave my diploma at them and they wave the Mexican flag even harder. After the ceremony was over, we had over 500 seniors trying to find their families, it was total chaos. I didn't have a way to contact my family since we weren't allowed to have phones with us during

I met Coleton at the Samwell Restaurant and bar, a small, intimate restaurant a few blocks from the court house.

When I was in high school, I distinctly remember the foreign exchange program the languages department ran throughout the year. Students from Russia, Germany, France, and Spain came over to the United States to live with a host family and have a taste of what everyday American life is like. By the time I graduated from high school, I had never hosted any students, and never intended to be a foreign exchange student in another country. However, upon exploring and researching extracurriculars for studying medicine, I came across Projects Abroad. After applying, it was only a few weeks until I was receiving emails about what Córdoba, Argentina would be like, who I would be staying with, and the types of activities we would be participating in throughout the week. Before I knew it, I was flying alone on an international flight to an unfamiliar city almost 5,000 miles away from home. I was nervous, jet-lagged, and my Spanish was more than a little bit rusty. However, after spending just one week with my host family and Projects Abroad leaders in such a lively and welcoming city, I fell in love with Córdoba. My Spanish skills improved, my passion for medicine was stronger than ever, and I was a confident in navigating a completely foreign city.

A story shared with friends and relatives is when I shot my nine point buck. My dad and I were sitting behind some brush and were just about to leave. We heard something to the right and looked over and saw antlers. I pulled up my gun and shot. I missed. It ran off to about 100 yards away and stopped and looked back at us. By that time I had the gun reloaded and aimed above him and shot. I hit him. He ran off into the woods.

It’s all a blur really – the memories that is, some dreams and others reality. I hate that dreams seem so real, that they make everything that you truly want happen. Then, when you wake up, you still think it’s real because you felt everything in that dream and all its emotions. And in that moment, that blink of an eye you have to deal with the nagging in your brain telling you it’s not real. My memories consisted of misguided mistakes that made me who I am today. Like the day I got lost in the mall and hung out in the book store because it was quiet. And the days where my dad and me would sit in the living room and listen to music. My mom would always laugh at me and tell us how lame we were, but it was okay because we knew she was joking.