Personal Narrative: Where I Live In New England

I Grew Up Here Where I come from it's taking pride in your yard, knowing every single one of your neighbors, and leaving doors unlocked because there isn’t a thing to worry about. I find comfort in that small town feel, and I am more than proud to be from good ol’ Warrenton, Indiana. Here, we are just a wee bit shy of being big enough to be on a map, but we have a name and we have town lines. Within those lines nearly two hundred people have found a home, and thanks to Mr.Dave Gruible our community is steadily flourishing. There are now three subdivisions on the rise in addition to the church, salon, family restaurant, and campgrounds that nestled into the area years ago.

I moved to Connecticut in the September of 2008 because my Dad had a job transfer. This was around the time that I started the second grade. I was introduced to so many people and they were all so nice to me. Six years later, I made countless friends and started to feel like Connecticut was where I wanted to stay forever. But in December of 2014, my Dad got a phone call from a company in South Jersey and they wanted him to work for them. At first, he worked 3 days in Camden, and the rest of the week in Connecticut. That was difficult though because we did not get to see him as often as we wanted to. My parents then sat my brother and I down and asked us if we wanted to move to South Jersey. I did not know what to think. After six years, I loved living in Connecticut and I wanted to stay there. They told us that it would be a lot easier to move down to Jersey instead of my dad traveling every week. My brother and I both agreed that this is what we are going to have to do. I can still remember that day though. It seemed liked the world was going to a scorching end. At least my world was. I started to tell my friends that

Growing up in rural North Carolina was both a blessing and a curse. My hometown, Fallston, North Carolina, is a tiny town way off the beaten path. Most people speak with a southern accent, are devout christians, vote Republican, think camouflage is a normal fashion pattern, and adore country music. But while I was a child, none of these things were a problem. I never realized how close-minded everyone was or how there were no opportunities for success; I was too concerned with the three most important events of the year: the Fallston FunFest, the Belwood Tractor Pull, and the Cleveland County Fair. However, as I grew older, zeal wore off and reality set in. I started to realize how conservative and restrictive it was. What little Fallston offered,

I come from the small town of Caribou, Maine. “Why so far north?” You might ask. Well, my father took a job as meteorologist for NOAA in Caribou following his retirement from the Air Force after 20 years of service. I moved to Maine in August of 2008, exactly 9 years ago; however, Maine is the 4th location I’ve lived in after Virginia (my birthplace), Alabama, and North Carolina.

Its pretty hard to find a relation between me and the book, but I guess one of the relations is the people I hang around with. Before I moved to Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, there were kids that were in my neighborhood who were generally nice people, but most of the time they would act in a really bad way and get into trouble. I knew how to stay away from them in situations like that and keep away from anything bad they were trying to do when it came to picking on others. I was able to become friends with one of the guys they were picking on, even though he was a few years younger than me we had a lot in common and were able to hang out most of the time. Now that I'm in PA, I don't really have that many friends because of the neighborhood and school

I saw four letters on the paper: N, S, W, and E. For a better view, I situated myself under a lamppost, as the darkness of night failed to illuminate my paper. Looking up and down the strip of asphalt, I was desperate to find any road signs. Once I found a sign, concealed by a tree, I noticed it said, "NJ-40 towards Elmer".

The year was 1999 when we moved to Colorado from New Mexico. I was just a year old. My father recalls searching restlessly day and night to help support me and my mother. Coming to a new state was difficult; moving from basement to basement was their only option. Fortunately, a little after our arrival, my father found a job working construction and we were able to get a small apartment.Although small, it was still fulfilling in every way. Money was scarce at the time, as well as food. As he talks, he mentions a weekend night when he and I were spending some time together in the living room. I was a year old, and I was hungry. I decided to go to the kitchen and find some milk. When I made it to the kitchen, I opened the fridge. My father says,

Many people believe that Orange County, California is the best place to live for its great location, community and economic strong hold. But what those people forget to take into account is the people that make up this community. Living in Mission Viejo, an overwhelming amount of people think that this a place of Eden, that has the greatest neighborhoods to raise children. Well they are wrong. Our self-inflicting wounds are done by teenagers who choose to poison themselves. I was once one of them.

On 06/19/17, a t12:00pm, I Deputy Warden N. Christian was dispatched to 3251 Miriam Drive South on an injury-possible dangerous or vicious dog. I arrived at the location and was advised by The Columbus Division of Police (CPD) that the victim is being transported to Mount Carmel West Hospital (793 W State St) for her injuries and dog owner resides at the above location. I exited my vehicle and approached the dog owner. I spoke to dog owner Alex Kriglowitz and his wife. I asked Mr. Kriglowitz what transpired. He explained he was mowing his lawn and opened the side fence to mow the side yard. His dog was in the backyard. Mr. Kriglowitz completed mowing and forgot to close the gate. Mr. Kriglowtiz went inside the house and the next thing

My father finally spoke up and said abruptly, we are moving to California. I said what!. That answer moving to California, was almost equal to my uncle telling me "Your Sister Jackie is dead." I knew that my girlfriend, my anchor on earth was disappearing from my life. And now she was gone, 35 days after I lost my sister. My earth angle, I dreamed of being my wife was gone. I felt like I was having a nightmare and couldn't wake up, how could all this be happening to me. Despair sit like a stone in my stomach, like concrete boots dragging me toward what felt like my inevitable end. "I'm not going to make it. "I was in a state of melancholy depression.Laced with a fatal sense of my own wretchedness. I was fourteen years old and felt like I was

When I was little my family and I lived in the small city of Elmira, New York. I remember one of the problems there was that I almost never got to see my dad. The job had required him to commute a long distance everyday, causing him to leave early in the morning, and come home late at night. Even when he managed to get home early he was tired and couldn’t do much. Eventually we moved to Connecticut where we lived in two different places. Living in Connecticut was a little better than living in New York. My dad’s job was a somewhat closer than before. For some reason, life in Connecticut seemed dull to me as a child. To this day I don’t remember anything really fun about living in Connecticut. Our first house had a gigantic downhill driveway

So before I was a resident of Delaware I was born and Raised in Southern California, had lived there all my life and I have an abundant amount of friends and family. My father decided we needed and change so we jumped on a plane at the end of the summer, here we were new to this life, I have to admit I love the outdoors and love the culture and atmosphere of Delaware but not knowing anyone was really difficult. I mean we had some family out here but it wasn’t like home and it defiantly took some time to get used to. When it was time for school I was defiantly scared to say the least. I remember walking to the first day of school like it was yesterday, I was scared to show up to a new school not knowing anyone it was one f the worst feelings

It takes years for a house to become a home. It had been about a week or so and I did not want to be there anymore. I felt like my life was ending and I had no one to listen to me and take what I wanted into

When people ask me where I live, I simply reply, “Boston.” This is both somewhat true and misleading at the same time; the reality is that I do live in Boston, but not the prominent and well established part that many people are familiar with. I really live in Dorchester,

Where I’m From I am from Guatemala city born in a hospital near a bus station I’m from being given up for a better education I’m from orphanages to hospitals being diagnosed with viral meningitis I'm from being pretty scared when i first got bronchitis I’m from Staten island to Hazlet