Personal Narrative: The Wild Game

I started drawing when I was 16. I was cursing 10th grade, or how is called in my country, Dominican Republic “Segundo de Bachillerato”. It was recess. I was alone in my classroom that day, besides two or three people who were just killing time there, and I didn’t had much to do with my time. I was at the last book of a series of books which names I can’t remember and If I recall correctly the last book was very boring for some reason so I didn’t wanted to read it anymore. So, looking for something to do, I stood from my seat and walked boringly down the aisle of chairs and that was, not my first interaction with art, but the first time I remember i liked art or paid attention to it. Yerkis, a guy of my class: short, chubby and well mannered

Four, maybe five German soldiers surrounded me. They were moving in faster than a pack of starving wolves, and I was their downed prey. There were flying bullets, dark smoke, and explosions everywhere. I was oppressed and knew that this was finally it. All my hard work was about to disappear into a plume of smoke. I commenced raising my rifle, and then in the midst of this chaotic scene there was this ever so subtle giggle over the headset. I look upwards dumbfounded to see a firestorm of bombs hailing all around me, and enveloping my entire section of the battlefield obliterating everything. It was my brother Chase piloting this monstrous desert-sand colored beast of a bomber, which just unleashed utter devastation on the opposing

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.

The best thing that ever happened to me is when my baseball team beat Brandon Valley for the first place position in regionals. Brandon Valley was our rivals and we hated each other for not really any reason. We knew at the start of the game that winning this would put us in first place. We had lost to Brandon Valley twice before but they were beatable. It was a home game near the end of July and sunny. The conditions were great for baseball. Our nerves were high and waiting for the game to start seemed like an eternity.

Ever high school baseball player has to remember there very first high school baseball game. I remember playing two inning in state playoffs for baseball. I only got to play those two inning because one of are teammates had to stop playing. It was the best two inning in my whole life it was so much fun but also so nerve wracking at the same time because I didn’t want to mess up anything or let my team down.

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.

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.

It was a saturday morning I had to get up and get ready for my baseball game. It was one of the most important games me and my team had ever played we were going up against a team called Storm Red, we started off the game not so good but we came back in the last couple of innings we stated a rally we were scoring and scoring over and over again. We ended up mercy ruling which means we scored to much for the other team to come back and win the game so we won 13-5.

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant, BubbaD’s Eateries. Knowing my big headed husband of mine, I probably had a baby then and trying to have another baby. Hopefully, by then Earnest will get rid of the idea naming our son, King. We will be living in the suburbs near New York City but working in the city. Being a woman with great memory, I probably wrote a memoir about my crazy life and trying to sell it to a publisher. If none of the publishers wants to publish my memoir, I will probably sell it the Lifetime

July 30, the day I was leaving for California. My mom, my brother, my grandma, and I all leaving for the big trip. After a seven hour plane ride, we arrived. My mother was in line to pick up our rental car, the wait which felt like a million years. Slouching on top of all the suitcases and imaging all my teammates laying out in the sun, swimming and having fun in the water made me feel bitter and antsy. We finally got our car and we were on our way to the hotel. It was another hour car ride, eventually we got to the beach. From there on out my day could not have gotten better. The water was as cold as Antarctica and yet it felt so good against my sweaty skin. At about 5 o’clock my coach decided we would hold practice. The field was in a park it looked like something out of the 1920s Great Depression, homeless people everywhere, but we made best with what we have gained. I had not had anything to eat since 6 o’clock that morning, but being the strong fighter I am, I tried to fight the pain of hunger off and finish through practice and get some food afterwards. Turns out my body could only handle so much, I was standing up painfully fielding the balls hit at

Of course the norm for me is that of any citizen living in zone three.

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

The cheer of the crowd and the laughter of the kids in the air were the only things reminding me that it was just a game. Eight and a half innings, seven pitching changes by both teams, twenty-seven runs scored in all, and we were still losing. The sweat came dripping off my nose and forehead like melting ice. My eyes stung, and I could barely keep them open due to the bright rays of the sun beating down on the dirt and grass, the baseball diamond seemingly larger than it had been eight and a half innings ago. My coach’s whisper rang through my ears. “Only if you think you can,” he said so softly that I had to almost lean in to hear what he said. I was on third base, with the winner of the game was being decided by one out. We had made

My Family and I were at home eating dinner. After dinner I told my mom that I had left something on top of the mountain, so she said “‘go up to get it Mary. But she didn’t want me to go alone so I went to go see if my friend was home but he wasn’t so I disobeyed my moms rules and went up by myself anyway. And it was starting to get dark so I had to get the base fast but I couldn’t find it. Now it was really dark and 2 hours had already passed and I couldn't my way off the mountain because it was so dark. And with my luck my phone died so I couldn’t call anyone for help, so I just started walking and walking after a little bit I realized I was getting nowhere so again I walked eventually I just fell and went to