Personal Narrative Story In My Life

I walked outside the next morning feeling great. The bright vibrant sun shone on the freshly mowed grass. I loaded into my sister's car and we went off to school. The day passed extremely rapid,

They bandaged me up and sent me home. I was kinda happy that, that happened because I didn't have to do chores or really anything it was great. I was treated like royalty all though if my brothers or sisters went anywhere, I couldn't go with. All in all it was the worst but the best thing that happened. It took my head a while to heal about a few months. But after it was all good we would do the normal activities kids on farms

School was letting out for summer and there was pure excitement in the air, or at least that’s what I thought. I was 15 years old and I had a huge summer in store since I got my first car and I could drive anywhere I wanted. I always had a great relationship with my grandfather ‘Pop’ and since he lived in town we did a lot of stuff together. He was 79 years old, but you couldn’t tell it because of his energy and health. I knew ‘Pop’ had been sick but I never thought twice about it, because he had always been really healthy. Being the young stupid kid I was I never went to check on him because it was summer and I would hate to miss out on something with my friends. That was my immature mindset, which made me feel very lonely for the majority

Laying my head back down, I rewind what the nurse had said. 5 years of coma? The year of 2095? What is going on? I thought. My mind kept trying to wrap around the thoughts, that I didn’t realize my parents had hurriedly stomped into the hospital yelling my name. Tears rolling down my mother’s cheek and big smiles flashing in the background. It took me awhile to notice it was my parents but I was still glad to see them.

“Breena wake up!” my mom whispered. My clock read 5:30. I brushed my teeth and got dressed, then waited for my mom. I couldn’t have breakfast, in case I threw up. As we drove to the hospital, I had a bunch of scary thoughts running through my little 9 year old brain. What if the surgeons mess up? How long will I not be able to talk? How am I going to play with my Barbies if I can’t talk?

“For a really long time, I thought being different was a negative thing. But as I grew older, I started to realize we were all born to stand out; nobody is born to blend in,” perfectly stated by Halima Aden. The events that have affected my life have shaped the person I am today. My parents were born and raised in Iran, and their journey to America has influenced their perspectives on creating a better life for my sister and I. My father came to America hoping to start a new life and family; however, being an immigrant was hard on him because he barely knew any English and did not have much money. After he became a U.S. citizen, he went back to Iran to find a wife and his new life in America. He met a woman, and after a couple of years of dating,

The personal life analysis that I have chosen to address in this paper is an issue that I see on a daily basis at work. One of the managers of the company I work for is thought of as the typical hegemonic masculine man. In Shira Tarrant’s Book Men and Feminism it states that “Feminism explains that masculinity and femininity are things we learn to perform, not behaviors we’re born with” (Tarrant, Men and Feminism 59). By stating this Tarrant is informing the reader that this is a trait “we learn to perform” (Tarrant, Men and Feminism 59) not something that is genetic. The man at the company I work for has been a prime example as to what is done when someone in a position of control tries to make sure that all the staff members in their department are males and those males in turn are in the power positions. Tarrant informs the reader “Masculine privilege is the idea that society confers certain unearned advantages on men simply

I felt like nothing. Everything was numb. Two in the morning hit, and I knew I would regret staying up so late. At that moment though, nothing mattered. Tears stained my face and my eyes were more swollen than a broken foot. Everything was hurting. It hurt so badly I could physically feel the pain aching in my chest. I knew it wouldn’t be the end. Last time was never the last time. I knew I was lying when I said I’d never do it again. I promised myself, but any promise you make to yourself is a lie, life or death if you ask me. No one knew. Not a soul. And I intended to keep it that way. I was only fourteen. I was just a kid, hardly in the world as a teenager let alone this person with all these real feelings. As a girl, if I had

I opened my eyes and saw a nurse and a plain hospital room. Everything came back to me right that second, and I screamed and sobbed in pain after holding it all back for so long. My throat hurt and my head held to much pain to bare, but I still managed to choke up, “where is my best friend”, “please she is okay right” The nurse gave me the “hmm how do I say this look”, which only made me more provoked. I asked over and over, and finally she said something in the voice she thought could hurt me the less after everything that has happened. “Honey, I’m afraid to say Megan's injuries were too much for her to handle, and and she passed early this morning”. She also said “let Alexis know, I love her and I am still the worst best friend ever, but I hope you know you were my best friend and you will always

I watched as Johanna tried to talk to Ella the way I had, but she still laid limp. I was crying too much to speak, so Johanna's husband Jim called my parents so they knew what was happening. It felt like hours, but the ambulance finally arrived. I ran down the three staircases to the bottom floor so the paramedics knew where to go. They had all these different machines and started hooking her up. They surrounded her to the point where I couldn’t see her. Johanna told me she thought she was having a seizure, and when she said those words, I fell to the ground thinking it was all my fault. “I should have been watching her every second. I never should have taken my eyes off off her.” All I could think was my little sister, my everything, is going to lose her life

My heart skipped a beat as tears threatened to fall. “What hospital did they bring her to?” I managed to whisper. “I will keep you updated honey.” assured my dad.

On September 21, 2008, my dad and I were heading to soccer. As we were driving, we ran across a stray dog. It was a Black Labrador. She was SO cute! We decided to let it into our car and we took her home to help her. We gave her food and water and for a week or two, we looked for her owner… we couldn’t find the owner. We didn’t know what to do with her so we decided to keep her. She was the best dog ever! She was so sweet, nice, and fun!

“Wake up, Wake up,” His mom yells him from his doorway. He slowly got up out of his queen size bed and made out some of the words his mom said like “where, to, be, late,” but nothing after that. He stuttered as he walked over to his white dresser in the closet of his room. He opened the drawer slowly not knowing what to wear. Which felt like an hour but was only forty-five seconds he finally found what he was going to wear. He soon made it to the bathroom, turning the cold shiny handle of the shower and not even waiting for it to get warm. “Hurry up,” his mom yelled as he hopped out of shower and quickly put his clothes on. He was in such a hurry, he almost slipped on the slippery cold tile of the bathroom floor barely catching himself with granite counter top of the sink. His mom was waiting patiently in the car not knowing if he would be there until another two hours. Suddenly as he looked at his phone charging on his bed stand he noticed the time. He basically sprinted for the elevator in his five story house with his gear and rode it down three floors to the main floor. He jumped out of the elevator and sprinted to his car still sore from being at the ice rink the last four nights practicing and training. He wasn't happy that he couldn’t get anything to eat, but new there would be snacks on his plane. They sped out of the long driveway of the five story house in East Grand Rapids.

I long to be free. To be free from the metal chains that hold me down. To be free from the whispering as I descend into my empty slumber. My heart couldn’t handle the pain of the immortal whispers and figures that popped up here and there trying to help or drag me with them.

Chicago, August 21st, it ‘s been cooling and the daylight seems getting shorter. That must be a sign for the end of wonderful summer, darkness is going to take over this town for the whole harsh winter upcoming. The little boy that year is now grown and learning how to deal with tough life in a country that he has never ever imagined to be by any chance. Excuse me for not having introduced myself which made a lot confusion. It’s me, Quan. I’m 21 years old. I’m from Viet Nam, a small country somewhere in Southeast Asia which all of you wouldn’t even know where it is on the map. The only reason i’m writing this intimate narrative story about my life is doing assignment for my Composition class. My mind has pretty blown out these days