Personal Narrative : The Vision Of A New World

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

I was incredibly excited. School was starting tomorrow. The first few days were just icebreakers, learning everyone’s names, blah blah blah. Then the real learning began. Of course, teachers started to write our lessons on the board. I started to notice a few changes in what I was seeing. The words they were writing were just...black lines! I didn’t pay much attention to it, I just asked my friends what the board said. As the year went on, it affected me more and more, especially in math. I saw a 2 as a 6, and and an A as an 8.

“He fastened the suitcase, put on his coat, looked around the bedroom before turning off the light. Then he went out to the living room” (Narrator).

What Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci coined "The New World" was now overrun by man-eating zombies. It all started in Chile and Argentina; news of a highly infectious pathogen had begun spreading at breakneck speeds. By the time epidemiologists had discovered the cause of this pathogen it had already spread to the Western half of the United States and was making its way east.

Mary left work and thought about what Andrea said. What if she did live with someone else? Would they stop her from going out at night? These thoughts followed her to the bus stop and until she got on the bus. Mary noticed that the same man eavesdropping on her conversation earlier was still there, he stared at her while she sat

The object given to me was the heart of a boy who I was fond of for quite some time. We spent the summer nights frolicking through green pastures of open land ready to take on the world like an explorer ready to find a new adventure; now what I look back on to be no more than a barren field filled with patches of weeds poking their heads above ground, hoping to catch even the smallest array of sunlight. I spent most of my summer nights with this boy, let us call him James.

If I was a European thinking about moving to the New World, I would base my decision based off the images and descriptions that were available. One of the images that would deter me from migrating away was a piece of artwork done by Jacques Le Moyne. His picture entails a group of natives who are trying to fight off a fearsome looking alligator. Theodore De Bry describes them plunging a pole into it’s mouth and turning it around so they can stab their stomach. He goes on to say that the natives have to watch out for them day and night because of how frequent they appear. Since I don’t really know how to defend myself against such creatures, I would be afraid to live somewhere where danger is constant. I also would not want to deal with vampire

He knocked timidly on the door, and waited… It opened after a few simple moments. Standing before him was a tall man, wearing only a pair of jeans, with no shirt on. The man had tanned skin, dark brown hair, and blue eyes. He was also quite muscular… Simon was very interested in this human, as he was, put simply, very interesting!

Walking home from school one day, I looked at the ruins that lay around me: houses, offices, roads, all destroyed because of the war. I wondered why it started. The war had been going strong for three years, and didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Brushing away my thoughts, I noticed an old lighthouse beside the ocean. Jogging towards it, I wondered why I had never seen it before. It looked ransacked, with both doors kicked in and the windows at the top shattered. I began to get a bad feeling about going closer, but shrugged it off and started to look inside.

My flyer3000 landed on an area of dark green, soft blades after flying for 60 hours. The captain calls this place earth, whatever that means. In the distance, I hear voices that sound similar to my family’s except these voices are higher in pitch and fast in pace. If one does not listen closely, these little voices become high-pitched jumbled noises that make no sense. I peek over this tall and wide brown object that prevents me from moving closer to the voices. The sight surprises me. My captain showed us pictures of humans but none of them were miniature versions. There were many tiny humans of different colors running around with pointy cone-shaped head toppers. These looked dangerous, but no one seemed bothered to take them off. I also

It is the summer of 2018 and there is still an ongoing Syrian war. As of now there are around one million Syrians coming into a new world, joining the Americas. I am kind of excited to possibly bring a new person into my life. However with school starting back up, it might be very difficult to juggle both new and old challenges. The new world being with the Syrian refugees and the old being my normal school life.

I’m starting to get slightly more comfortable on this ship, but it’s still nothing like home. Well, I guess this is home now. I’ve started to make myself fit in here, but I’m not sure how it’s going. Eldest still makes me feel like I’m stuck in a prison though. It’s almost like he’s a Pre-Hitler. He’s made everyone on the ship believe I was a result of some crazy lab mutation and that I am a freak. Now, barely anyone believes a word I say or even looks at me. All except for Elder and Harley. Harley is extremely curious but is a loyal friend. He even volunteered to watch over the people in Cyro sleep to make sure there wasn’t any tampering done to them. Elder, he keeps bringing back memories of Jason, it’s like the two are identical in personality.

I was 5 years old when my life took a big twist. One morning my parents had made the decision to get us a new fresh start, a better life. A life that they were not able to have. I had left my country, El Salvador, not just my country but my family as well. Coming into this country was a huge change for me, it was like a whole new world. I remember not knowing how to speak English. This eventually caused me to isolate myself from everyone else. I would go home and cry for not being able to understand and speak English. I went through depression at such a young age. Even outside of school it was complicated. My parents worked all day, I was left with a babysitter. She would speak to me in Spanish but she would speak English to the rest of the kids.

Have you ever opened your eyes and found yourself thousands of miles away in a completely different part of the world with a different language and new people. I was ten years old when my family and I moved to New York. Of course, before I moved here I was oblivious of what was waiting in front of me because I was so young. I had to face the reality of adapting to the New World which was going to be difficult. One of the most challenging tasks that I had to face was learning the language that was completely foreign to me.

Jeon Jungkook, your average sophomore in university, with barely sufficient grades and a ton of snarky remarks, had been living in an apartment for nearly two years. The apartment just above his was always empty, and he had wished to keep it that way — Hoseok had told him a ton of stories about his upstairs neighbor dancing and stomping at 2AM in the morning ("like what the fuck") — but sadly, luck wasn 't on his side. He didn 't even know about the supposedly new tenant until he woke up one