Personal Narrative: The Memoir

I was in the car with my family heading towards the lake to go fishing. The car ride was long and boring. Half through the car ride we stopped at a gas station so we could get some gas. After we got gas we went back on the road and I fell asleep through the other half of the car ride.

About six months ago, my grandma was diagnosed with stage four colorectal cancer. Last month, a family member of mine from Vermont called to tell me that she died. The only thing I could do was ask myself “Why? Why did such a terrible thing happen to such an extradentary person?”. I mean I guess it’s natural to assume all things happen for a reason, to think there is a greater intention for our suffering, but I simply can’t think that.

When I was 20 months old my partner in crime was born. Kensey Kaitlyn McKee was born March 7, 2002, and little did I know my life would be changed forever. I was not an only child anymore I now had a little sister who needed all the attention. Once Kensey was old enough to walk and talk that’s when we really started to have fun. We once got in trouble for wiping diaper rash cream all over our walls and mirrors, it was a disaster but I’m sure we were having the time of our lives. Another time we put our new kitten in a cooler in 100 degree weather for hours, and then finally one of us remembered where we had put her luckily the cat was just fine. We always had so much fun. I feel so bad for my parents at one point they had two toddler

“Sovereignty is an idea of authority embodied in those bordered territorial organizations we refer to as states or nations and expressed in their various relations and activities, both domestic and foreign.” The Yamato State fabricated elaborate mythistories in order to gain legitimacy for their new ruling power, and eliminate other claims of authority. The religious insertions within mythistories further cemented the imperial line as a sovereign power, creating religio-political influence. The political infrastructure and institutions put in place by the Yamato state, were also a defining element of their regime, implemented to sustain order and a clear distinction of power. In order to further establish the new nation, the Yamato engaged

It was 8:30pm in my bedroom. I just got home from football practice like every other night.

The minister is currently looking for a new place for the church to be located in. He shared, "I found several places near my house, one was 10 minutes away from the current church location by car."The minister has been searching for 2 months diligently for this new home for the body of believers in Denver. Pastor Thomas will be registered soon at OU, but currently he isn't. "Now things are quite busy here. I will pray about that, and when My co-worker returns from Dover for Kbers training, I will have more help at the church." Shared the Pastor.

“What would you say if I asked to go away, just like we did after we met the hunters?” I brought up.

A typical day in a life of a missionary. I am awaken by the sound of

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.

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 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

I’m surrounded by expected actions and bouncing basketballs. I had not yet found my true calling, though many around me have, whether it be basketball, cheerleading, the adrenaline of running past you’re competition they all had found something to drive them. It took me a year to find what I was truly passionate about and now that I am recollecting on it I’m obsessed with it, the overwhelming intensity that I am overcome with when I touch a volleyball. The first year of volleyball was rough, I enjoyed the fast-paced adrenaline when those fervent seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours, but I didn’t have the skill required to continue to pursue the goals I set for myself. But I kept grinding, always practicing, always finding some way to include some sort of training into my daily endeavors like studying in intervals and rewarding myself with some technique training,

So there I was a fifteen year old, one ear pressed to the ice cold artificial wood of my bedroom door listening to my mother’s angry, drunken rant. “I just don’t understand why all he ever wants to do is play on his stupid little satan box upstairs. Why can’t he be like a normal boy and want to do something manly like football!!!” I sat there and continued to listen, like an assassin in night waiting to strike, to every disgusted word that erupted from my mother’s alcohol engorged mouth as she explained to my aunt over the phone how she thought of me as a pitiful disgrace. After the longest thirty minutes of my life, I had finally had enough, I kicked open my bedroom door with such force that it came off its hinges and hit the ground with a loud thud. My mother instantly turned to face me, a look of undeniable terror on her face. She knew that I heard every single poisonous word that oozed from her mouth. She knew what

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

The leaves blowing, the wind was whistling. The moon shined brighter than the sun did that morning. I looked like no other normal teenager, But I was wearing all black. Black leggings, Black jacket, Black shoes, black shirt. My hair looked like caramel, my eyes looked like a yellowish brown that shined in the moonlight. My name was nothing important to people. People say “Angelys” is a nice name but i think differently. Nothing seemed to happen, I was coming home from a friend’s house. No one was near or so I thought.