Personal Narrative Story : A Short Story

I wasn’t but 6 years old when i found out that life wasn’t all that it cut out to be. Yeah I had always known that nobody was perfect but never that I would feel so empty. When I was 6 years old my mother and her girlfriend filed for custody for me so they could take me away from my home. They wanted to move to Connecticut that was 6 states away from Virginia, my home, my family,my friends, and all I have known. My father put up a fight and wouldn’t let me go he didn’t want me to go and I could never thank him enough for it. When the court date was set everybody was all stressed out and I had a lawyer that came and talked to me about once every two weeks about what I wanted and how the court would work. We saw each other for about two months right up till the court date came around then my mother wouldn’t let me see her anymore because she could tell I was getting upset.

Guess what my sister did this weekend? Last weekend was her last meet before counties. She did very well. I had so much fun watching her. There were sad moments though when the relay was lost by a split of a second, b. But I still thought it was fun since it was her last meet before winter.

I just want to start this off with saying I'm sorry for arguing and the attitude issues. Lastnight's not how I wanted to spend it. I didn't get a hug or a kiss, all I got was how did you do tonight as if money was the only thing you seemed to care about. Then you tell me to either get out of the car or go home and I said give me a minute because I was on my feet all night at work. And I didn't wanna,stand around the outside of the gas station. People always say never stop fighting for the person you want once you finally get them. And I feel like you don't want to fight for me because you have me now. You know you always tell me that you want the rayann that I was in st. Pete to come back it's hard for her to come back when the last couple of days/week we've done nothing but argue.

The officer had me answer way too many questions making that day far worse than it needed to be he made me give a description of the killer and an overall summary of what had happened.

''Wasn't that amazing or what?'' excitedly shouted Cisco as he entered the hall, closely followed by a very emotionally tired, but happy, Sara who was glad that they were able to get the job done.

It was a sunny day, but I was shivering from fear. While the rest of my family was getting into their scuba gear, I was composing a silent prayer to God.

What a wonderful week, and way to end a transfer and begin a new one. I first wanted to say how grateful I am for this wonderful opportunity to be a missionary. It's been almost a year since I left beauty of California behind. Yet, there is something beautiful about the desert here in Arizona that I have truly come to appreciate.

I can recall the first time I was kicked to start a game. Some people say it’s a great moment but I don’t think of my memory like that. Before I got kicked I had heard great stories about it. So, I expected it to be super fun, but that’s not how I experienced it.

I was on the verge of death, but death couldn’t catch me. It wasn’t a typical Friday. It was finals week, and that meant as soon as I got out of that last exam of my sophomore year I was off to meet my friends for lunch, followed by a party to celebrate completing another year and officially becoming junior. My friend, Michelle, along with her friend Josie, my sister, Armina and I were in my sisters car with the music all the way up and completely pumped to start our summer. We had just returned from Panera Bread and were on our way to the party. Thanks to having a senior sister, we went to a party where we ended up hanging out with an older crowd. As we drove up you could tell it was going to be wild. Cars and cars packed next to each other, there had to have been over 100 people there. I was

Tyler rose from the wooden pew he’d been sitting on. He could still feel a few tears pricking at his eyes, and he wiped them as he exited the church.

It wasn't like she didn't know who Stiles Stilinski was, it was just that in all those years of school she had never approached the subject—never cared about him one way or the other. She fell into society's view of what a teenage girl should be and she became the popular girl who didn't outwardly associate with those that she believed to be beneath her, but the charade was exhausting. Lydia Martin was a very brilliant girl and she had a lot to offer, but she didn't always believe that much in herself on her own.

“Well, dammit all to hell and Goldview, Texas, anyway,” Brandon Masters whispered under his breath. Not that there was anyone around to hear him, even if he’d shouted to the high heavens. He looked up and down the lonely stretch of highway. So close and yet so far, with nothing but his dead cell phone to keep him company. The way he saw the situation…he could suck it up and walk to town—or, he could wait around for the carrion feeders to discover his dried up, shriveled carcass at the side of the road. Ick.

I quietly let tears run down my face as my mother viciously beat me with her own hands. As she throws me on the floor, her foot makes hard contact with my back barely missing my spine. It feels as if she just threw a hundred bricks at me. “Be quiet! I’m watching the game!” my mother’s boyfriend yells from the living room while he lights another cigarette. I lay there with an emotionless expression on my face as my mother begins throwing whatever she can grab at me. She laughs as she looks at me lay on the kitchen floor silently weeping. “Pathetic” she says loud enough for me to hear. I close my eyes as she picks me up and takes me past her boyfriend and out the back door. I suddenly feel cold, and as I open my eyes, I was thrown into the

I have a scar on my right hand. It is just under my thumb on the backside of my hand. It is a thin, pale mark, roughly an inch long. How did it get there? Well, I’m glad you asked. It is an epic tale, not meant for the faint of heart. It conveys the utmost bravery on my part, more heroic than King Arthur’s knights! If you so insist, I shall recount the tale.

The last couple of minutes were thinning out and it was time to go. Of course, I had to dance to the last few seconds left of the song, but I shouldn’t have. As I was going to go and grab my jacket I went down. As I began to fall I knew that there was not going to be a good outcome. As I hit the cold, chopped up, ice, I immediately thought about my wrist to see if it was okay because I had just gotten my cast off early that week. But I realized that the pain was all in my left ankle. I quickly grabbed my ankle and was on the verge of crying. Everyone surrounded me asking if I was okay. I couldn’t stand it, everyone talking in my ear, seeing if I was okay. Clearly, I was not, I’m sitting on the ice holding my ankle like it’s a newborn baby, so fragile.