Personal Narrative: The Right Of Passage Where It Happen

For the fifth time that night, I walked over to my mom’s bed to see if she was breathing. I felt the relief wash over me when I saw that she was breathing. She had started to slur her words after dinner around six thirty. Judging by my past experiences this meant she popped a handful of her usual pills around quarter to six. There was nothing out of the ordinary for me in the situation. This was every day life for me, the years leading up to my first year of high school. I was fourteen, and I had been taking care of her from what felt like the time I could walk. Little did I know that would be the last night I had to wake up in twenty-minute increments to check on her. When morning came my bags are being packed, confused I asked what was going on? My aunt walked in to the living room and simply said, “you will be living with me.” Just a short phrase changes my life forever on a day I’ll never forget. It was in the

I had just gotten home from band practice, my body sweating, my legs sore. I saw my parents sitting in the illuminated kitchen; everything was silent. All I could hear was the faulty faucet, dripping every second. They stared at me and tried to speak, but they could not seem to get the words out. I felt hot, yet cold, as chills ran down my back. The response I received after asking what was going on determined my upcoming fate. I still recollect the day I found out, August 10, 2015, the day I realized everything was going to change.

My mom and I loved the movie. It was neat to see a Western movie 'cause you really don't see those much any more.

I live in a world in which no idea is impossible, where everything that you could have dreamed of can be made, where nothing isn’t allowed. But this world only exists in the U.S.A., the place that started with people grasping and reaching for freedom. These people started to unite people to make something happen, to do the impossible.This was over throwing the british’s power over the americans and allowing people to be truly human. Not long after this there were many people tired of strict rule and listening to people who tell them what is or isn’t possible. These people started a war with less men, no weapons, but the thing the other side didn’t have that we did was unity. Instead of backing down and saying we can’t, we arose to the challenge

Its a well known fact that all players of a baseball team have a nickname. Well all except for me. It started in the dreaded On Deck Circle. Just the name of it makes my bones shake to the bottom of my cleats, It’s the worst part of baseball. Just standing there totally and completely helpless. Trapped until the batter either gets out or gets a hit. Only then can you escape the confines of the white chalk.

This is the story about me. It is a very weird story which, no, I didn’t even want to do. Why am I doing this? It’s because of this school thing I have to do. Well, let’s get this over with.

In the year 2008, I attended elementary school enrolled in the third grade. I enjoyed outdoor activities with a burning passion, and I had many friends. One weekend my best friend Dimitri slept-over at my house, and he and I decided to go on a bike ride with my younger brother. Unfortunately we only had two helmets that functioned properly, but since I always put friends first, I gave my helmet to Dimitri. We were having a great time racing up and down the block until my brother found a pair of rusty broken scissors lying on the side of the road. An awful idea entered his mind at that moment and he decided to throw the scissors at me. During his first attempt he missed and I sped away and yelled at him. Ignoring me, he threw them and missed

I had come downstairs that morning walking across the cool, cherry colored hardwood floor of my front hall to find my brother where he usually sat on Saturday mornings; in front of the TV playing video games. In an effort to fend off the bright morning sun he had made a makeshift shield using a shelf door. It did not prove to be very effective, as the sun still shone brightly through our back windows, forcing him to squint his eyes just a little. As I went to ask him when my turn on the Xbox would be I took in the familiar feel and smell of the air conditioner running through my house in the midst of a hot summer morning. It was one of the favorite things about my house; you could always

The move across town had me excited about the new house, sad about changing schools, and happy to have found a best friend in the end. The summer before ninth grade my mother moved to her first home in the beautiful historic Old Cloverdale. Our new home was a four bedroom, two-bathroom single level home on Park Ave. The great front porch, spacious rooms, and nice sized kitchen was a huge change from our old apartment.

To the colonists listening to the shot heard across the globe, to the United States soldier crawling up the fortress-like beaches of Normandy to fight against the ideals of Nazism. The United States of America, "The Land of the Free", has fought to secure the freedom to those across the entire world. Though freedom may have appears to be an act of living in one's home with many different rights, this expression takes on a more defined term when looking at the many different freedoms that formed throughout my own eighteen years of life. As I peer throughout my life, those that have truly allowed me to experience freedom was through performing music, obtaining a car, and beginning a career.

A massive, dangerous opportunity that I followed, was coming to the United States during a time where I had to focus on studying subjects that I stand used to its curriculum and take the Scholastic Aptitude Test in a language that I remain familiar with. However, I persuaded my mother on the decision of coming here to America. Although she highly hesitated about it, she as quite wanted to support me to earn the conventional education possible.

Even though I could die in the process, I knew it was the right thing to do. How could I live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to help the world?

What happens if you lose what appears to be your “everything” and you do not know what to do next? If you feel that you are anxiously floating in the inbetween perhaps you are in The Liminal Space.

I had a pretty good weekend you could say depending on the things i did this weekend.

Confidentially is essential while working at a company. From my past and current experiences, I have learned different information that needs to be kept confidential. When I was eighteen, I first learned about confidentially while working at a bank. After inputting the mortgage payments, the payment receipts had to be shredded to keep the account numbers and addresses private. Also, working at AT&T in the finance department, every report was either shredded or kept in a confidential box and filed away for safe keeping. Other employees could not have access to the reports except the vice president of the department. Many reports had employee names along with budgets for different departments which would show if a person was getting laid off or