Personal Narrative: The Machine

In the beginning of third grade was so exciting because I will get to see my friends. But when I got home my parents told me and my brother that we are moving. I was really excited at first because it was my first time moving.

I love living in a small town, it gives me a sense of guaranteed safety and simplicity.

Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

Hell, If I could, I would have turned right around. But I couldn’t. There was still something blocking my free will. It wanted me to go inside one of the buildings. Seconds later I feel the same force dragging me towards the A lettered building. 4 windows covered with dust shadow the view from the inside. I can barely make out the structures inside. Obviously everything was abandoned, so the sound of nothingness, not even the wind, was very eery. I arrived to the front entrance. You could clearly see how old everything was. The brick and concrete were beginning to crumble, chunks of rock falling from the building's sides. A large rusty chain was keeping the twin metal doors locked with a simple padlock on them. The rust seemed as though it was severe. A simple pull and the whole thing came apart with the lock on the ground. “How long has this been here?”, i question. Rust shouldn’t have weakened the metal that much. My legs alert me once more and I continue forward march. Through the twin doors, I was in what looked like an old, burned office. There was a receptionists desk in front of me charred black, filing cabinets all around were also charred. Everything in there was burnt to a crisp. There was no smell in there, so this was not recent. I continued up to some metal stairs which made some uneasy noises. Once up there was only one place to go, a conference room of sorts. Charred tables and chairs, but my legs keep me moving. They take me

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

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’m fairly new to the adult romance genre, and after reading a few that I adored I got a blogger friend of mine to give me some recommendations. On her list of recommendations for romances that are more rom-com was Melissa Foster’s The Real Thing. This was my first Melissa Foster book and I absolutely loved it! I’m so glad I decided to pick up this one as one of my first picks. he Real Thing takes place in a small town called Sugar Lake and features Zane and Willow who have a somewhat complicated history. I loved that they technically started out as friends and kept in touch all those years before getting together as it just made their chemistry and relationship all the more steamier and swoonier. And while the fake relationship trope was used

I have been working like a machine for the past seven days. I have been getting up at the crack of dawn every morning and getting our oxen ready to go. I try as best I can to help with breakfast so that Mrs. right doesn't have to take care of us that much. After that I wake the children up, we all eat breakfast, and head on our way. When the sun is high in the sky we stop for lunch. Lunch is most likely a sandwich and a small drink of water, then once again, we pack up, and then continue going. A few hours before the sun is about to set, we set up camp. All of the women start making a big dinner, all of the men round up the animals and put them in the circle of wagons, and the children play for a little while. Once that is done we all

When I arrive home, I go into the kitchen and grab a snack. No one was home so I decided to go to sleep. I lay in my bed and try to focus on sleeping. I lay for two, four hours, sleep evades me. I groggily find my way into the bathroom and grab a dixie cup and melatonin to aid me in sleep. I don't remember much about how I got to bed when I wake up, or much about my dream. But I do remember seeing Isac dead in my dream, and the light from my necklace shining through the room. I know something isn’t right, and while I can’t place exactly what it is, I know it’s bad.

Stop, stop, stop!! The kids are sleeping, please stop. “ I don’t care if the kids wake up you can’t do anything right, your worthless.”

You could hear the crowd cheering, the coach screaming for a play to be made. Each player on the court running low on breath as the games clock was coming to an end. The score was 37 to 35 the home team was going to lose but they had the ball in their hands with only one shot left. The ball went hard into Sean’s hand as he realised that he was open on the 3 point line, this was his chance to win his team the game, to bring home the win. Sean took the shot and as the shot went up the horn blew as the timer finished. It was over, the home team had lost and with it Sean’s dream of basketball.

What a day it was, it was an overcast type of day. Camden Ohio was the setting of this historical day. Both teams knew it was going to an all-out dog fight. A little bit of history between the Walsh Cavaliers and the Alderson Broaddus Battlers. The past two years the games ended with a one point spread. With us Battlers always coming up short. The first year we lost in overtime and we had chances to win but we could never finish. So with that first lost began our out of state rivalry. The second year I played a key part during that game. During my second year of playing lacrosse, I earned the starting faceoff spot. During mid-season, our first chance of a win came again, as we hosted the Cavaliers from Walsh University.

Last year, in my summer vacation I used to work in a candy factory. It is very big candy factory. I used to work with Canadian and Portuguese people. I was enjoying my work because there people were very nice and helpful. The thing was they had provided me 12 hours shift. It was such a long shift. There I had to carry heavy candy trays and arrange in an order. Also, in packaging line, I had to package all the boxes very quickly and fill the candies in boxes. It was very hard work. In my 12 hours sift, I used to stand for minimum 11 hours excluding break time. In my vacation time, I used to work every day over there. I was getting very tired. I was feeling pain in my back and sometimes in my heel also. That time I was