There Are Many Events In My Life. Choosing The Best Is

At a mere age of ten, seeing trees and mountains pass by through the window of a speeding car. Sitting in the back of the van with the radio blaring and yelling of four other kids. A mix of emotions, happy, sad, excited. We were moving to North Carolina. That was six short years ago. It wasn’t until I turned 15 that I realized, my life is flying by. I had just been in the fifth grade in a very small school. I was excited to explore what else this big world had to offer. I had known I loved the mountains. I was very excited to meet new people and live in a different climate. Over all I loved the idea.

The age of nine or ten is when I realized that I wasn't like the kids around me. I did not have people to call mother or father , no one to come to parent teacher conferences. Not having anyone to draw the family photos of, it was just me and my sister. Remembering being all alone walking down those too long and too big halls filled with too many people. Everyday as a Nobody Girl with clothes too big from the local Goodwill was shoved pushed aside or tripped and as I get up I put on a brave face for my sister. She was everything to me. Having to be brave for her, to her I was mother and father , not sister. Getting home from a too long of a day for a ten year old, and had to deal with an emotionally abusive guardian, and a depressed guardian

When I was only four years old, my life changed forever. It was the year I moved to North Carolina. My dad’s friend got him a job opportunity that he simply couldn’t give up. So, he quit his job and found a nice rental house to live in. I had moved before but I don’t remember. I moved from Indiana to North Carolina with my brother my cat and my parents. When I moved to North Carolina, I was aware of what was happening, but I never realized how different everything would be. The house we moved into we only lived in for a year, but it was a pretty hectic year.

I took out my gun and pointed I it at his head; his hands went up; he knew he was done.

When they arrived, Katie opened the door immediately. They showed her the same picture of the gun they showed to John and asked the same question. Katie had no problem going to the safe in the closet leading off the master bedroom where the gun was always kept. They got to the safe, and the gun was lying on the floor right in front of the safe.

spotted what looked like a dog, aimed his gun, fired and saw the body drop to the ground. After

John made his own first gun at age 10. It didn’t have a trigger, and you had to pour gunpowder into the barrel for every shot. He made the gun out of scraps from the shop’s garbage pile, and he didn’t tell his father until after he had finished. He and his brother Matt tested it out by firing at prairie chickens—and brought the chickens home to the family for dinner that night.

He explained that there was a man wearing all black with rubber sandals, his shoulders were slightly stooped. He had a grey ammunition belt around him, a weapon in his hand slowly making his way to the middle of the trail. I saw him and freaked, so pulled the pin to a grenade and threw it near his feet.

Four years old. An age too young to know but an age old enough to remember. My life in Laos is something I can’t recall. I only know about my travel to America because of my parents. I was only four when I left my first home and arrived in America. The war sent us running to America, like most immigrants. My pregnant mom, older sister and I awaited my dad, who fought in the Vietnam War, to come and take us to this place of freedom. The wait was ephemeral, he didn’t return. My mom’s brother was the one who came for us. He came and took us across the jungle, across the ocean and flew us to Fresno, my new hometown.

It was an old 1960 model Daisy 880 pump-action pellet gun, coming from the decade before my dad was born. It had a matte black barrel and receiver, with a sturdy wooden stock; one of my prized possessions. I absolutely loved it, and still continue that affection to this day. However, that day my specific target was a Barqs Root beer can, set atop an old pile of wood that had once been a pig-pen, probably built around the time my gun was made. With plenty of time to kill, I began shooting.

From the day I was made and distributed to a particular gun store in Texas, I was always put away. I didn’t think I could be that dangerous considering, I could fit within a pocket or a purse, and that I was very small. I just thought I was made for protecting people. Most of my other gun mates as soon as they were bought they got put in a black box sort of round at the edges with a lock at the front, my owner when he bought me, threw away the box that belonged with me. Some days I wish John, the man who bought me, just kept me in the box stored away under the bed or the top shelf of the closet so I can live the rest of my days in peace. I just happen to get the wild and crazy life. These adventures included being right next to people’s foreheads so they can feel

Why did you choose this event in your life? I chose this event in my life because it was one of the most stressful parts of my life. Exams were coming in and I had to lose a lot of weight. My grades were horrible and all I worried about was not passing. From all the stress I kept gaining weight which brought my self-esteem down.

Life seems to take many twists and turns that somehow mesh into each other to form a chaotic knot of happenings. All of these occurrences are supposed to shape you into a wiser more experienced person. Many people can even pin point the exact moment in their life which was forever changed by a single event. When that event happens it becomes an unforgettable memory for you and teaches you a lesson that becomes one of the basic guidelines in your life. The event that forever changed me and was most significant to me was when I decided what I planned on doing for the rest of my life; choosing my major. I knew exactly what I would plan on doing my

The house started to cave in. I was almost crushed by a piece of debris. “IT'S AN ALIEN INVASION!” says mom. ”RUN!” says dad. We get outside. The sky is filled with alien ships. We manage to steal one. “Wow, look at all the weapons in here”. I exclaimed. “Take one of each and try to fight some of them off”. I just take a big weapon. I fire the thing and it takes an entire 20 ships out. “ 20 down 100,080 to go,” I say to myself. But I only have 10 more rounds. I set it to rapid fire which is written in a weird way like it is all in symbols. I know that because all guns always have the 2nd switch for rapid fire.”Get in” says, dad. I climbed into the ship and we fired away. We soared through the skies and I kept tumbling and stumbling around. !@#%^$&)&%#(^ I heard through the intercom. It was probably an alien that didn’t realize we took their ship. The ship shakes around. “We are going to crash!!!” I shouted. Just then, we jolted back up. WOAH!! I cried. Then the entire ship went completely dark.

     The most important event in my life, didn’t even happen to myself, but happened to my older sister, Becky. The reason I am writing about her is because the things that have happened to her and the things she has done in the past have affected me tremendously as well as my family. Her life used to be filled with nothing else but drugs, stealing, and lying. My family has never been the same since then.