Personal Statement : ' Bang ! ' The Gun Screams '

I sprinted up the stairs, taking no time to stop for breakfast. I had to make it to the factory by 5 or I’d be beaten. The fear of punishment gave me extra speed as I ran out the door into the smoggy darkness. As I ran, I tied back my long blonde hair with the ribbon tied around my wrist. I ran down the cobblestone street, careful not to step in any of the piles of mud. The streets were devoid of carriages, anybody rich enough to own a horse wasn’t getting up this early. The only people I shared the streets with were other children and adults going to work.

As I frantically got my lunch, books, and backpack together for school, I heard the news in the living room ringing in my ears. Another shooting down in American history, this one at Sandy Hook Elementary School. The news reporter began to talk about Adam Lanza, the shooter, who was deeply troubled in his teenage years. As the reporter elaborated, he revealed details that Lanza had access to guns. I felt my chest begin to tighten as I thought about dangerous people having the ability to purchase guns with no struggle. With each word spilling out of the reporter’s mouth I suddenly felt like oxygen was escaping my body and a sense of fear came over me. Out of nowhere, like a train hitting a car, I heard my mom yell, “It’s time to go, it’s 7:35.” I say, “Okay I’m coming!” even though

Went shooting for the first time today and I must say I am hooked!!! Shot both the AR-15 (and no AR does not stand for Automatic Rifle...) as well as the Glock 19. Of the two my favorite was the AR-15. Of course had to go in repping YAL and all the work they do to maintain our freedoms and liberties. God bless the 2nd

The glistening sun scorching my eyes bring me back to consciousness , i have only a few seconds of silence before i am overcome with an unbearable screech next to me .

When the gunshot rang through my ears, I, as well as everyone around me was stunned in confusion, fear, and lack of comprehension. They looked around to see where the bullet had landed and noticed him, a man in his late forties looking down at his stomach. The hand that covered the area was stained with a thick, dark red color that coated his clothing. The crowd drew away from him as he fell to his knees, just realizing that he’d been shot and he was going to die. When he looked up at the police, they looked away, ashamed of their actions and unaware of the impact his death would have on his family, his friends.

These walls mock me. I can't escape this confinement. I've studied everything in my cell, the walls, the floor, bed, door, window, every pattern, every inch top to bottom. I see scars carved into the wall from people counting their days away. I count every second, minute, hour that i'm stuck in here, everyone seems to be longer than the next. It's hard not to think back to that moment but sometimes I can't help it. His voice fills my thoughts, every time I hear him it brings me back to that moment. The cool air of the night whistled through my town, as i turn off my car i hear the engine cutting off. I stop take and take a deep breath, i reach over to the glove box and grab the glock 45 the cold steel touches my hand. I put it in my jacket and walk into the store. I hold the gun up to him and say “give me the money” his face drops he tells me you don't want to do this to stop, it's too late now though there's no turning back. He throws the money on the floor, as i go to pick it up he grabs something from under the counter. I freak out and pull the trigger, i didn't mean to, i didn't want anyone to get hurt. It feels fake replaying over and over. Every sound, every smell, every emotion. I remember the whole night. I can't do

It was like two hands intertwining together when the moon’s light peeked through the gargantuan sycamore trees. We are on the treacherous run to freedom, and I am eager to get there. Because of my bistered skin, I was shackled and cuffed, and forced to work in a field my whole life without my family. If all goes well tonight, I will be a free man who makes his own decisions instead of having everything forced upon me by an austere master. It seems like we had been running for days and my feet had never felt pain this agonizing until now. We slid through the woods like a snake slithering towards its prey until we began to hear voices. They echoed through the trees and would not stop. Ducking behind opaque bushes, we waited for the signal

My heart began to race faster than a cheetah, my legs were numb, and I couldn’t tell whether or not I was actually running. The feeling of the crisp and hot summer air quickly entering my lungs felt rough, while the air was escaping even faster. As I struggle to look behind to see if he was close enough to get me I tried to exclaim while trying to grasp some air for my lungs, “Xouse, he’s gaining, on us, come on!”. As the hot asphalt burnt the bottom of my shoes off, I continued running into the alley of two apartment complexes as my cousin followed. I looked at Xouse, I saw the agony on his face, my vision went blurry, next thing I knew I was standing in front of a wall, with nowhere to go. I looked back to see if we were finally safe, and then I knew, I should have never left the by myself.

"It's OK. Everything is going to be OK." Kind words I never wanted to hear. I had never been in love with such creatures . My three cats would dry up my tears and make my stomach hurt for laughing too much because of their mischievousness. All I can remember about that day are memories I had with my cats leaving me when I saw them for the last time.

What do you think it would be like to be shot at? In the poem, Here, Bullet, Brian Turner uses a lot of personification and imagery. He describes that without the human and their body, there is basically no point for the bullet. The person shooting the gun isn’t the evil one, it is the Bullet. One of the quotes from the poem that uses personification is, “the adrenaline rush you crave” It describes the feeling the Bullet has as it is being shot.

Darkness enveloped me, and everything in sight. I could barely feel my body, but I could tell I was sitting. I heard someone talking. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew it wasn’t English. Something was ripped off my head, and I figured it out that it was a burlap sack. Bright lights stung my eyes and I had to squint to make out that there was an ancient looking camera filming my every move. I turned my head and saw a blurry version of one of the gunmen from my first nightmare. The classic black ski mask that you would see from a cartoon concealed his identity. I felt my mouth move in reply to whatever the gunman said, although I didn’t know what he said, or what I was saying for that matter. The gunman closest to me raised his Glock 42 and struck me across the face, and I tasted blood flood into my mouth, and spit out a glob of saliva and sticky blood. I didn’t care where the blood fell because I wanted to show as much disrespect as possible. He pointed his Glock at me, and I noticed that his aim was flawless. I could see the golden bullet lodged in the chamber. The gunman spoke and his words were muffled because of his mask, but I understood what he said.

When I was a child, my body was so weak that different illnesses assaulted me for a long time. One of my serious illness is asthma. In the past ten years, there are still no effective methods to deal with asthma. Therefore, I suffer from asthma all the time as a young boy. This is a feeling that can’t be easily explained but do a lot of harm to my body and hearts. At that time, I was too young to describe the feeling. However, I could tell the detailed feeling recently when I caught a cold and came together with asthma. It was a night that the asthma attacked me. I can barely breath through my nose that I must largely open my mouth to catch a little fresh air. And the most hopeless thing is that this little fresh air can’t totally get into my lung, which makes me feel that my respiratory system suddenly shut down. In addition, I can’t lay down because the weasand will be extruded so that I sit on the bed the whole night until I feel a little bit better. This experience is still

My head is spinning as I crash through the reeds by the millpond. I keep running through them until I trip over a pile of reeds and clumsily fall to the ground. Laying there in the snow brought it all back. I closed my eyes as it all repeated in my mind. Killer Kane in my room, the streetlight, the old lady’s apartment and then Freak coming in with his little squirt gun filled with ‘acid’. My mom and dad the night he killed her, him telling me it was a dream. I couldn’t take it anymore. Opening my eyes, I felt tears threatening to fall, the first ones in a little while. The reeds rustled nearby, and a small rabbit hopped through. All I could see was it’s eyes filled with terror as it ran. I guess I’m sort of like a rabbit, running away from what scares me. No, I need to face what scares me, so it’ll never scare me again. I need to face Killer

Jolting awake with a gasp, I turn my head to the right. The green glowing of the clock reads 2:08 a.m. I need air. The ubiquity of liquor and the scent of apprehension in this room is asphyxiating. The cool morning breeze, however, gives me tranquillity. Walking against it

I awaken at the sound of an order from the vox speakers, of which calling out my name. But hearing it just now and the speakers says that I am late to the briefing. Of course hearing the loud vox speakers barking out orders to anyone across it and giving out threats of punishment to any non-Astartes. Is something to get used to as we traveled the galaxy. And on occasion, gathering necessary supplies and refueling the ship to our next destination. Of which I have no knowledge of, or as to why I have been chosen. All I know is that we have just left Sub-sector Hctider, in Segmentum Tempestus. I push myself upright, cracking my neck as I do. The fact that we are finally nearing our destination is heartening, as the secretive inquisitor has