Personal Narrative : The Longest Day Of My Life

A cool breeze chills me to the bone as I step out of the car, fall must around the corner. The earlier feelings of anxiety and fear start to take control as I start my trek to class. The air is becoming harder to breathe in as though I am nearing the end of a marathon I have been running. My first class was at the First Nations University. I could remember watching how what had to be hundreds of students march the path each break while we built the new residence. As I was getting closer it became apparent at how enormous the institute actually was. With an

The morning was foggy and I could see the front of my school through my window. It was a nice sight to see. I walked into the kitchen to make myself a bowl of cereal and there she was with her head down on the table. I could tell that she arrived a couple of hours ago because the tears hadn’t dried from her cheeks yet. I got myself ready gave her a kiss on her forehead and headed off to school. I had walked into class eager to see what my teacher Mrs. Padron had in store for today. Every single day there was something new to learn and there’s something about that infinite nature of learning that really appealed to me as a child. I cherished those 7 hours I spent in class the most I could and I dreaded the mere thought of having to go home where I would have to face the

It was late one day in June, and the sky was as blue and clear as sparkling wine. I sat back in my hammock reading the book Unbroken enjoying myself, and my uncle came up and asked me if I wanted to play poker with him, 5$ buy in. I jumped at the idea finished my page and went inside the house. Poker is a pretty big thing in my family and I’ve grown up playing and my uncle was one of the best, so spending time with him playing poker is always one of my favorite things to do. We proceed to set up the table, “Texas Holdem“ he says, Jacks to open”. Nothing weird, so we get the game going and the pots getting pretty big when all of the sudden he drops his cards. I stare the cards dead in the eye and see that i'm going to surpass him! He looks

At last, the bell finally rung, and I was headed home to get my gear. Hastily packing because lessons began at approximately 4:30, with about an hour drive. I hopped in the car next to Carolyn with minimal excitement. My nerves began to set in. I sat back and attempted to relax while we traveled past Delaware onto Earlville. Watching cars and fields pass by aided me to relieve some stress. I quickly forgot where I was going and why. Time flew by in that red Ford Escape. The trip from Manchester to Asbury seemed to only take fifteen minutes instead of forty five. We arrived far too soon, yet we were still late.

The bell couldn't have come fast enough and the second it did I was out of there. Zarra pointed me in the right direction for my next class before going to Web Design. I was the first one to Government, which was the best thing that had happened all day. I took the music from my ears and covered them with my hands. I was about ready to cry—something I hadn't done since the last time I went to a new school. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

VROOM! The bus goes when the engine starts and drives to school. Ugh! The thought of going to school again and beginning the 2nd grade in Maurice Hawk School. EH. I wasn’t so nervous because I had the same class as my friends. I know my teacher was so nice to me in 2nd grade, because basically all elementary school teachers are really nice to kids like me. Her name was Mrs. Ramirez. I had to run to different classes during that class like speech or just different subjects because I hate the thought of being late. When is was time for speech, my teacher picked my classmate and I up because we forgot to come to class. I know I just said that I hate the thought of being late, but hold your horses! It was only the first day! Give me a break! But anyways, while we were walking slowly and calmly in the hall, we started

Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness, broken promises, regrets, first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no hassle, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, encompassed by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt

I stared at the piece of paper on the table in front of me. I had sat at the same desk, in the same chair for over an hour now, staring at the same piece of paper. My mind had gone blank with a serious case of writer's block. I looked at the clock on the plain, beige colored wall and sighed. An hour had passed and I continued to look at that dusty, old clock on the wall. Seconds turned into minutes, which eventually turned into an hour. My long, wavy brown hair brushed over the paper that decided if I would become a lawyer or not. I had endured almost seven years of school all to stare at this paper for an hour and have nothing. My vision was blurry, but I ignored it and tried to push through my pounding headache so that I could start my LSAT

It was the summer between my eighth grade graduation and the start of my first year of high school that my family and I left behind our city dwelling first-floor three-bedroom apartment on a one-way street in Connecticut to the rurally side stacked townhomes and sub-divisions of Virginia. I had not put much thought into why we moved or what might come of moving. I did come to the conclusion that this move would be “better for us” as my mom would say because through copious amounts of research she discovered that the education provided would master that of our public school system where not all students had the books they needed in order to learn and even do homework. As the night transcended and we packed into our vehicles it was

The next day I was excited to go to school as normally, but this time it was more. I felt more continuous today than ever before, once I got to school Haya was waiting for me. Mrs.Pink told Haya that if she wanted to tell us about what her life before was like that she could. So Haya did she got up in front of the class and told a poem about what her name means.

Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness,broken promises,regrets,first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no trouble, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, surrounded by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt helpless.

As a whole, I think my memoir is very truthful. Even though it happened almost a decade ago, I remember it very well because it was a turning point in my life. Everything as I knew it was going to change in an instant; my parents are separated, I’d only see my dad every other week, I’d have two of everything (birthdays, Christmas, etc), and other mental and emotional changes. From beginning to end, my memory is spot-on with this scenario. I wouldn’t have any reason to change it or believe it differently. It made me who I am today. I wouldn’t say I was exaggerating either. I definitely took this better than my brothers did and I have the strongest relationship with my father between my brothers and I. I wrote in first person because I feel like writing in third person doesn’t have the

My most significant experience in my life is unforgettable. I was there with my sisters, my mom, and my dad. It was the most horrifying event that I have ever witnessed. The daunting image in my head is still clear as day, as though it happened yesterday. This event did not affect only me, but also my family. The story that I am about to tell you may change the way you see things and it may not. All I can say is, it

There’s something about writing your raw emotions on a piece of paper that allows your spirit to run free and hold no boundaries of what you can think of and it's only the moments in life that can fuel the locked potential inside you. The epiphany of my life was actually closer to this present time than in the past, about last year my family moved from New haven to Branford. In New haven I was in a program which allowed me to go to Wallingford as a district school and I spent 6 years in this program making friends and going to school all I knew from my elementary to highschool period from then was Wallingford. While schooling in Wallingford district living in New haven I had developed a skill of poetry in the midst of 8th grade. I found that

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.