Personal Narrative: Was It Worth It?

The old car made a distinct low pitched hum as it idled. Olive green paint covered the brick shaped vehicle which was manufactured the same year I was born. The high school's parking lot was always hard to navigate through, as bad drivers and careless walkers filled the lanes. However, my girlfriend and I were already stationed in the back row almost as if we were hiding. In that miniscule moment, from inside the metal shell of the vehicle, nothing on the outside mattered. We were the only people in the entire universe; The concept of time was non existent.

So then I go, and find Mrs. Price and tell her, ¨The red sweater wasn't mine. I knew adults weren't right all the time.¨ So I yell at the top of my lungs to Mrs. Price, ¨YOU BELIEVE ALL THE STUDENTS AND YOU ALWAYS YELL AT ME, I WISH YOU NEVER TEACHED HERE, I JUST WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE.” Then Mrs. Price tells me to go to the office. So I stomp my feet on the floor ,and go to the office. When I get into Mr. BobbyJoe’s office i talk to him and tell him what had happened. He says to me, “Now Rachel I know how you feel if I were you I would do the same thing. So what i want you to do is to go and tell Mrs. Price your sorry while I go and call your parents then come back.” So I go back to the class room and tell Mrs. Price that I was

As both of you probably already know I have been a VERY sick man since February of this year and into the hospital 8 times for treatment. During this time my recovery was looking optimistic and I thought that I could work again. With the spirit of trying I did no more than 5 hours work before having to be shipped off to the hospital in an ambulance again. During this time my thought process was clear, turns out it was skewed and I am still unable to work. That being said it has more been a horrifying process to come to terms with being medically disabled and unable to work at 20 years old. During these months of suffering I realize I have caused this company mass suffering with me having to divert tons of my shifts due to being unable to work them.

I did not really learn anything new although I thought it was very informational for those who did not know about what a substantial source is and how to find out if it is a good one.

That’s how long I’ve been fighting for. Hundreds of years, battle after battle, win after win, it doesn’t matter how many times the cycle repeats itself– there’s no end to it. No nice ending, no hero who saves the damsel in distress, living happily ever after, no, it just keeps starting all over again.

I can’t believe this guy, first he brings me in and the next year or so he gives me away. Well I guess that is what humans do these days. At least Danny was nice to me when he brought me in. I can remember the first thing he whispered to me “ I’m never letting go of you.”I guess that's how life is people like you one then the next they throw you away. I wish one of these my owners would keep me forever. I’m never going to like an owner like Danny Agui.

Pulling into the parking lot was a lot more nerve racking than I thought. I could feel my body shaking from head to toe; trying to remind myself to take deep breaths. This was the first time I wasn’t playing in the game, and I had anxiety just like every spectator had for my team. Everyone, including me, was rooting for us to win, and I didn’t want to disappoint. It had to be 90 degrees that day, because I could feel the sweat dripping down my face as if I had just run a marathon. My nerves didn’t help either, because it just made me sweat even more. When I grabbed the handle to open the door, my hand almost slid off because they were so sweaty. My friend’s dad grabbed it, and opened it for me. After I walked in I was handed a yellow and black brochure that said “Seton Academy” in big bold black letters. I found my name listed inside next to all the 8th graders on my team. It was St. Agnes vs. Marsh, and it was going to be an exhilarating game. We had worked hard all season to stay undefeated, which led us to the opportunity to play in the championship that day. I walked into the gym which was about 10 degrees hotter than outside, because of the extra bodies stacked closely together, and that’s when it started.

Doing the right thing is the thing that matters the most. It was November twelfth in twenty

The overstretched fake smiles and false enthusiasm futilely hid the jittered look held within during my first major audition. Six months of hard work and preparation was overpowered by stress coming in the form of sweat and unnecessary bathroom breaks. Ashamed and terrified of performing as a soloist, the metal strings shrieked during the audition in front of the white tarp hiding the judgement that I feared. The truth was a bittersweet reality that I brought home as a trophy while the event laughed at my incompetence as a cellist.

All my life I’ve been told that college was a place that I would meet some of my best friends and possibly my significant other. Although I have made a few friends and acquaintances, I have not been as social as I would have hoped. My experience during my first few months at college have not been as good as I would have hoped but not horrible either.

Sitting on that bench wasn’t going to help make me feel better about myself. Neither was it going to place me on my dream team. Repeatedly thinking about the catastrophic event that took place within that hour made my head want to burst. I wasn’t sure how my eyes wanted to react; it was as if they were holding back my tears all the way back from my head.

If I had one “do-over”, it would be to study math in high school more seriously. I know now how important math is in everything I have an interest in now and many good paying jobs. Having studied geometry, calculus, or trigonometry early in my life would have changed my life I am sure in many positive ways. I could have been anything I now want to be in life, from an astronomer, computer programmer, to chemists. To me my biggest do over would be to take many more math classes when I was younger and my brain more

she was. Once, everyone was awake and dressed at 8 o'clock we went over to the main lodge to find our friends Chris and Lynda Schatz, with their friend Tim Isbell already eating. It seems that it’s always a buffet here with the same thing as yesterday, but there was hash brown shredding's instead of squares, and I once again had cinnamon rolls, apple juice and bacon, excluding biscuits because they were just nasty. We ate our breakfast and chit chatted, but while we were doing that the weather turned nasty, and the wind was howling much more than it had yesterday.

Racing thoughts encircling in tangled ways always led me back to one question, “What difference would it make?” Throughout 3 years, I was never able to figure it out until my whole life shifted. However, I always believed in the simple fact that everything happens for a reason. Meaning that every decision I’d make was destined for me to get something out of it, either learning from my mistakes, bettering myself, or recognizing my bad habits.

I still remember the Tuesday night sitting in the cold park bench alone looking at my phone and reading his text. Part of me wanted to be blissful, he knows I exist, but the major part of me was trying to hold back the tears that were starting to make their way through. Sometimes they don’t have any idea of how long their words can stay in our minds and how many different ways it can affect us. I still remember every word in that text; stabbing like hundred knives, and enhancing the pain. I started doubting myself that day, was I worth everything? Was I worth for someone to like me? Do I even like myself for someone else to trust me? We know there is a saying, ‘love isn’t supposed to be easy; it is supposed to be worth