Personal Story Of My Childhood

I remember that day as if it were yesterday, the day I had to testify against my real father. There I was, so young and scared, all eyes were on me making me even more nervous than I already was. I just wanted to back down and run away, but I knew that was not the right thing to do. I had to be strong and face my fears because that is the only way things will get better. I made sure to keep in the back of my mind that this would be the biggest thing I would ever have to do. If I did, everything else would be like a little bump in the road, nothing I can't handle. This event was one that started my transition from childhood to adulthood.

It was three days after my eighteenth birthday. It was a day of many firsts. I drove a long distance to place I had never been by myself. First time being introduced to my boyfriend’s parents. Also realizing you should always unpack your car after a trip. Signing my own paper work legally as an adult. Biggest first of the day was being in my first car accident. Never thought being an adult could be so difficult.

Aristotle once said that “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” While other children grew up amazed by the night sky and all its wonders, I grew up captivated by the orchestration of the tiny universe within each and every one of us. Throughout my life, I am constantly mesmerized by the human body’s uncanny resilience against adversities. What fascinates me the most is the body’s ability to constantly overcome obstacles in its battle for survival. The intricate and interdependent symphony of our inner machineries working ceaselessly, enabling us to not only survive, but also thrive fascinates me unlike any other fields of knowledge. Yet, despite the body’s best effort to maintain this inner harmony, there comes a point when it can no longer burden the stress placed upon it. I learned this harsh reality through my father’s battle against his chronic kidney diseases.

It was 3 am in the morning. I woke up to a chilling phone call. I grabbed my phone and it was from Veronica. I was so confused, so I answered it. “Hello... “ I said as I heard screaming and crying coming out of her voice.

Summer of 1994. New York City smelled no different than hot rat piss and looked accordingly. Fresh off my 15th birthday and wandering the Brooklyn streets with Hakeem, we followed the music wherever it played. Our community cherished music through constant airplay. Anyone with loud speakers, either in their car, apartment, or boombox, blared any of the anthems from the future greats. Whether it's Nas, Wu-Tang, Biggie, or Tribe, the list is blissfully endless. Hakeem’s brother, a well-connected music promoter, gave Hakeem two tickets to this secret show he was putting on for Ice Cube, who, despite being the first notable west coast rapper, carries a rage within him that the east coast entirely recognizes.

Delano then pulled a gun from his ankle holster and places it on the table top. --

Ever since I was little my life has been changed. It all started when I was 8 and woke up to my parents fighting. They were throwing things at each other, calling each other names, and hitting and pushing each other around. I went outside of my room to go to the bathroom and saw my birth mother, Katie, laying in the floor with a pool of blood by her head. As soon as i saw this I went back to my room and pretended that i never saw anything. I tried to go to sleep, but I found that unbearable. The next morning I was getting ready for school and I noticed that my birth mother wasn't there. It was then at the moment that I realized that she was never coming back. I continued on with my day and when i get home later that day my father wanted to

My friend ,Kendrick, is diligent and self-sufficent.He gives his best effort at everything that he does.One time Kendrick and I were at school walking to the cafeteria to have lunch. Before we opened the door to enter ,we was stopped by Mr.Douglas. Mr.Douglas was Kendrick's R.O.T.C instructor who had a high rank as sergeant major. He stopped us to talk to Kendrick about some important R.O.T.C business.

I was born on August 11th, 2003 on a beautiful morning in L.A Ontario. I am the only child of my parents. When I was six months old, my parents got divorced. My mom and I and my grandma moved to a different house.

My most difficult situation was when we found out about my eyes when I was in the third grade. It all started when I was having trouble seeing the text books, the stuff on the boards, and my grades started to go down because of me losing my vision. When you are in the third grade and you are eight or nine years old, it’s hard to accept the fact you won’t be the same as your friends and that you can’t do the things you want.

Growing up as a kid, I had a hard time focusing and staying still. I was fidgety and procrastinated everything till the last minute. Chores, homework, you name it, if it could wait until later, I’d being doing it later. I learned this terrible habit from watching my dad put off cleaning out our garage for the last 19 years of my life. So when I think of reading an entire book or having to write a paper, I immediately get a little anxiety knowing I won’t attack it piece by piece like I should. Pair this with a restless kid with an attention span of a rock and you can understand why I chose to play sports and video games instead of reading. That was until I found my first good book.

I’ve always thought of myself as a decent writer until I got prompts like this. I usually do well on writing assignments when I’m tasked to analyze two varying texts or record the development of some fictional character, but when it came to analyzing my life I’ve always had a difficult time. It's like everything becomes cluttered in my mind and I feel that I have so much that I need to say, yet so much that I shouldn’t. I remember just last year we had a memoir project with a rubric that stated that "the goal of a memoir is to describe the subject’s personal experiences, not to make the reader feel bad for the subject". I found that project especially difficult due to me always thinking that some of the best memoirs had to invoke some powerful

As I laid in bed, I dreamt of a wonderful, beautiful land, a land full of creatures like unicorns, fairies, mermaids, pegasi, and butterflies the size of your head, along with other surreal, but beautiful creatures. I continued to dream, hugging a pillow as I snored a little, still enraptured in the fantasy world I had created for myself. As I shifted my body around to make myself more comfortable, I suddenly felt something strange and wet. I opened my eyes, waking up from my dream. I felt something wet between my legs, and I thought that I had probably wet myself on accident. In my curiosity, I lifted up the bedsheets, and my eyes widened in shock and horror when I saw a massive patch of red blood between my legs. I threw the bedsheets

I was not born in a hospital. I was born at home. My parents lived in a very small town. The hospital was about two or more hours away.

When I was riding my bike, I didn’t notice anything wrong with my bike but everyone wanted to ride it really bad and I was like “no its mine”. So, we argue over who’s bike it is and then I told him let me call up my auntie on my mom’s side