Personal Narrative: The Outside

I’ve always wondered what the outside world was like. As a cooter turtle, I’ve been living inside the same old glass walls filled with unnatural water. It felt like prison. No matter how much I swam, I would see the exact same things over and over again- small rocks, plants, and two other strange objects that I couldn’t identify. My turtle mate, River, had guessed that one of the strange objects were probably a human object used to keep the water “clean”. I found that kind of strange since the water was never clean anyway. River was a Red-Eared slider and was a few inches smaller than me. Or at least I thought he was. I’ve always thought of him as a scaredy fish because he always ran away from everything. Whenever the Twoleg came towards us, he would dash away like as if he saw a ghost, and whenever I asked him why he was so afraid, he would refuse to answer.

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

When it comes to what separates me from other teenagers, there would be quite a bit to tell. I would say a major difference which separates me from my peers is my love for barbershop harmony music. I do not have a quartet of my own; however, I love to sing barbershop tags with other friends at church. I set myself apart from the world because of my beliefs: as a New Testament christian, I believe the bible gives us all instruction concerning spiritual matters.

My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider. When I was younger dealing with a learning disability, I have had a hard time making and keeping friends even to this day. I struggle with being a follower instead of a leader. My own adoptive father verbally abused me growing up and I also had kids in fifth-sixth grade who constantly bullied me. I still am reminded of an instance when the first day of fifth grade approached: I got on the bus and these older girls started making fun of my pants saying, “She’s wearing high-waters.” I was humiliated in front of my peers every day since than during those two years. After being bullied for so long I made a vow to myself to never forget the pain inflicted upon me on a daily basis.

I am the outsider. I attended beginner sailing camp with my brother, Kent. I had never stepped foot on a sailboat while my brother had sailed since the previous fall. He knew all the instructors because they were fellow high school sailors. I was in a whole different world: the sailing world. New terms like “line” instead of “rope” was being drilling into my head. All instructors and Kent continuously said, “There is no rope on a boat, only line.” The bonding of Kent and the high school instructors made me jealous and envious of their relationship. At that time I was the outsider, who knew nothing about sailing.

For most couples, its all consuming, instant adoration. But for me and my wife, it was affection at first sound. She called me at 2 am, and I happened to be remaining by the telephone, so she vented to me, the faceless outsider. We wound up talking for hours, knowing each other, and becoming hopelessly

Some people say money is the root of all evil. I didn’t see it that way. All I saw was a simple task and a big prize. Well, at least I thought it would be easy.

When you crash into a truck and your car flips over four times, usually you die. In my case I’m just in a coma, lying in a hospital bed. There are two problems with this. For starters, I’ve been in this coma since 2008 and it’s nearly 2016. The doctors say that pretty soon they’ll have to pull the plug on me because I’m not showing any signs of waking up any time soon. Apparently, I’m taking up a bed that could be used for some other sick kid. The second problem is that I’m not just lying half-conscious, but I’m in another world. This may sound crazy, but it’s true. When you become comatose your brain pulls a few strings and sends you to a lovely place called The Inbetween. The Inbetween is filled with people who are in situations similar to mine, but how they ended up like this could be different. The world is peaceful and everything until you realize the downside. When you wake up in the strange world, the first thing you notice is the bright blue tattoo embed onto your forearm. Every person here has a different one, and you can not leave until you find your match. This process could, unfortunately, take days, weeks, or even years. Sadly if your match dies before they can even get here, then you pass away as well. I have been stuck here for almost eight years and I’ve had no luck with finding my match. I wander around all day, greeting new people and asking them to have a peek at their ink and no one has

Growing up as a teenager you go through many obstacles. Some face more difficult ones than others. One of the many obstacles most teenagers go through is finding your comfort zone, and being able to step out of it at times. Many people including me are skeptical about crossing their line of comfort. These past four years I have had a lot of growth, and most of the experiences have had to do with me finding myself outside my comfort zone.

The air was brisk and bit at the windows of the bus. I gazed at the Peruvian landscape and the dilapidated houses as they whizzed by, suddenly I came back to reality. I was exhausted from the early start of the day’s travels. The roar of the bus and my exhaustion caused me to slip back into a daze. I kept gazing at the rows and rows of unfinished, drab, neglected houses. I then turned my attention to the people milling around.

On a brief trek to San Francisco a week ago I had an extremely fascinating background with Californian Police and the American method for taking care of auto repairs, particularly auto glass substitution. Driving back to my inn in my companion's advance vehicle, a Police vehicle tailed me into the lodging auto stop probably to check why such a nice looking person like me was driving the auto. What ended up being a standard permit check then turned into a vehicle review which found no other deformity than a chip in the glass windshield. I don't comprehend what happened to the "place where there is the free", the USA is assuredly now a Police State where individuals' development is overwhelming confined by impertinent power. Goodness the Police

My feet ache, I feel as though I have been running for hours. My breathing comes out in very short spurts and I have trouble to bring myself back to my feet. I am able to hear it. The other set of footsteps that ring after my own. Right behind me. Go! My head screams the thought, but I am unable to move at all. I have made it to the third floor so far, with the footsteps trailing behind me. I have nowhere to run to? Is there a safe place? The footsteps getting louder and louder they are coming up the staircase so I open the door that is behind my back forcefully swinging it with the last piece of energy I have after running up all the stairs. The freezing metal door pressed on my hands is the safest form of protection. "Angela!" I stand up,

"If you find something really great, don't screw it up, don't mess it up, but hang onto it. You never know how and when it ends." This quote of Stana Katic's is so simple and so clear that the deeper meaning slips by people. I; however, have spent so long contemplating its meaning and how it applies to my life.

Unfortunately, there is no pause button in our lives – either we move forward or we move backward. Thus, in order to evolve, people should always take a step forward at each stage of their lives. Finally, this moment came in my life and I had to make a decision whether I continue my studies in college or to labor somewhere. I have chosen the first one and hope that this decision will never be a disappointment for me.

I've struggled with acne for half my life at this point. It's definitely come with its emotional turmoil and made it so much harder as a teen learning to love herself. It was never just one zit on my forehead and a couple on my cheek, oh no it was everywhere even on my ears. However, as a teen this problem was so much different because it's something that is pretty much expected, but as an adult it's so much different. Breaking out makes me stressed and the more I stress out the more I break