Personal Narrative: The Heart

Those are exactly the kind of relationships that tear you into pieces when they fall apart. They walk out as easily and unexpectedly as they walked in but this time, they prick into your body, pull your heart from the chest and shock you to bits, leaving you miserable, bleeding, broken and crushed. They turn your entire world upside down when they leave, creating a fog on the same rose-tinted

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

During the third season of When Calls the Heart, I became the unofficial interviewer of the Hope Valley Kids, probably because I interviewed so many of them. And Jaiven Natt was definitely in that group. With his return to the series this year, we have continued to see his skill and character expand and deepen, so I recently had the supreme opportunity of chatting with him yet again, and this time, we had a decidedly different, but engaging interview covering a wide variety of topics.

“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.

Last summer I wanted to work and earn a little cash and distract myself and not be home all summer. I didn't know where to apply so I applied everywhere I was even open to working in the fields my parents told me that the fields were the last place they ever wanted me to work. My mom and step dad Raul always told me that field work wasn't easy and that it was not for me but I didn't listen.

Well this year was a hell of a year. I mean, i didn't pass any of the semesters but i did observe a ton of stuff that went on in the class. The class in general was pretty lit. Every day went by and i honestly did some work. The class was ready to learn as mrs g was ready to teach. I mean yea we had some days were we didn't want to learn anything and there were also days when mrs g didn't want to teach. But ima be honest, doing the work we did wasn't in my best interest. Most of the projects we did in class i worked on, but at the end i didn't end up liking how i did it so i wouldn't even bother turning anything in. like the obituary we had to write about ourselves. I liked the meaning behind this but honestly i didn't want to work on that because it just brought back memories of my friends that were killed.

I wish I could run faster. I wish so many obstacles weren't in my way. I wish I knew why so many people wanted me dead. I wish I could...remember.

It was a hot Spring day in the middle of a soccer game of my Freshman year. I felt that pain that impacted my life forever. It changed my outlook on life and made me realize how truly lucky I am. I came home that evening and complained to my Mother how bad my chest was hurting. She told me it was most likely indigestion or something I had ate earlier that day. Her being the educated nurse that She is, I believed her and went on about my night. Soccer season continued and the pain was still there but only when I ran. I didn’t think much of it and ignored it. Soccer season ended and I had never felt the pain again. That was until later that year, I walked from my class to the office. I could feel them again. I told

I knew cross country would come with pain, but I didn’t realize the risk I was taking. After the Starmont meet, the pain I was having was unendurable. I didn’t think I’d be able to walk.

The clouds were black, immeasurable, and grotesque. I still believe it was because my best friend was leaving for war. My friend Nicholas was the only person that I could have reliance and certainty with. He was the person that when the stresses of the world got to heavy on my shoulders he would pick the world up of my shoulders and carry the burden of the stresses of reality for me. In the end there are no words to describe the signification he has in my life and there is no comfort that can fix the loss that I feel in my heart because of his absence. So for the time being my heart will be in two places, half with me here in Denver, Colorado and the other half in Kandahar, Afghanistan.

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

I’d had many mini-lifelines thrown my way, none turned out to be the life-altering, ground shaking beneath me, and gates to opening up “heaven”, though. To me, I’d blame it on the different ways I came off to strangers, depends on the day, I could be a multitude of characters, but never latch onto the following of others. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted my lifeline to latch onto, the problem was, I was like a fishing net with a gaping hole--incapable of doing such things. Then, the last person I expected to, stepped up and accepted the challenge.

I didn’t learn how to read until 2ed grade.Beacuse parents divorced my dad would take me to school some days and my mom would take me others. Little did I know my mom would drink and get high after I went to bed at night. In the morning she would sleep in with a hangover so I got dressed and ready on my own. She would not wake till 11:00 so I would play dolls and watch cartoons all morning. Because of this, I missed about 30% of grades K-3. In 3ed grade me and my dad and stepmom learned of my moms addiction. I stopped seeing my mom for a long time. During that time I discovered the joy of reading. I started later than the others so I ended up at a low reading level but once I learned to read, well, I never stopped.Stories are

Overall, Trimester 1 has really shed a new light on ELA. Throughout elementary school, I had always despised ELA. I struggled with writing and finishing stories. I had plenty of ideas, but I just wasn’t able to get them onto paper in the form of a story. I knew little of what else ELA class had to offer other than writing stories. This trimester I learned many new things that made me appreciate ELA class a little bit more. I learned that ELA is not just writing stories, it is also finding the theme, reading, and many others.

It was just like every other day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping playing their songs in harmony. I was at the station drinking my coffee.