Personal Story Essay

I have a scar on my right hand. It is just under my thumb on the backside of my hand. It is a thin, pale mark, roughly an inch long. How did it get there? Well, I’m glad you asked. It is an epic tale, not meant for the faint of heart. It conveys the utmost bravery on my part, more heroic than King Arthur’s knights! If you so insist, I shall recount the tale. It was October 3rd, 1996, exactly 373 days ago today. It was a warm Autumn day, the leaves that decorated the trees had just begun to morph

I am going to write my personal narrative about when I was bullied by a girl named Anna which is not her real name but I will tell the story using a different name for her. So it all started when we were like in 2end grade. I happen to walk into rickers when she was in there and I guess she was mad because her grandma told her stuff that was not true about are dad’s. So she took it all out on me for years. She said stuff like you B word and other cuss words. I was like “ what did I do “. Then she

Personal Narrative Story I spent the days reading and sleeping and doing homework. It was about as exciting as the Republican National Convention, well, the homework anyway. The books were the most interesting part, but you can’t spend all of your time reading books, right? Anyways, after quite a bit of thinking and debating with myself, I came to the completely logical conclusion that the best way to alleviate my boredom would be to make bread, because the best thing to do when you are bored is

After a long day's work, you just want to go home and rest. Take off your shoes, kick back in your recliner, make some popcorn, and watch some TV. It was late at night, and John was just getting home from work. He thought it would just be a normal night where he watched his favorite shows, and eat so much until he knocked out of the couch, but that wasn’t the case. When John got home, things seemed a little unusual. From the outside of his house, he could see it was completely dark, which was weird

It was cold snowy day at the jones house. It was as cold as the ice on northern sea. It was very windy and a huge blizzard began to happen. The temperature felt as if we were standing outside in Antarctica. A few kids that were outside building miniature snowmans. It felt like a winter wonderland to them. Later they started heading inside to stay warm and safe from the storm. “Michael get in here!” Michaels mom shouted as she was covering herself to keep warm as a stove.”Coming!” he shouted back

Some people believe that you have to go to these great lengths to find courage or to figure out what they wanna do for their rest of their life, but that’s just not true. Take me for example. It took a three hour and seven-minute road trip with two of my closest friends to realize everything that I’ve been searching for. I know, I know, that is probably the corniest sentence you’ve ever read—but, it’s true. My path to self-realization starts Saturday at 10 a.m., a day after high school graduation;

“I will catch you, even if it takes forever,” screamed Jax. The louder I screamed, the more Blair chuckled. It was like he didn’t even care that Mikki’s life was on the line. Soon I caught up to them. I was so difficult, but I did it. I reached my boney arms to reached for her. I felt her arm slightly, when i jerked her back into my arms. Once she noticed that she was back into my arms, she sighed in relief. Not long after Blair noticed that he was empty handed. He turned around and started running

I was awaken by the noise of the annoying ice cream truck. I slowly roll over as my eyes scan the room looking for the time; 3 am. I heard the sound of the ice cream truck again. I quietly got up and walked over to the hallway. I thought I was just hallucinating because it was just my 11 year old daughter Lizzy slamming the window down. Then I watched as she skipped down the steps with a five dollar bill in her right hand and her long blonde hair bouncing off her shoulders with every step she took

I was walking over to the sidewalk to head home, when out of nowhere a dark blue truck sped up to me, and the man in it yelled “ come on kid get in the car your mom just went to the hospital, she had a heart attack.” The guy was staring at me as if he didn’t want me to leave. “No she’s not, I don’t have a mother she died 2 years ago” I lied to see if the guy was lying to me. “No she’s not she’s in the hospital right now.” He said inching the car forward. “What my mother’s name then?” I asked

My Personal Story I was born on August 22, 1999 in Fort Bragg, North Carolina around midnight. So, the second I seen the outside world; still the hospital room I saw my Grandma, Pappy, Maw-Maw, and papa, and my mom was crying. However, the person missing from the room was my father. My coach was more of a father than anyone in my life. So, my father was in the military deployed in San Antonio, Texas. He put my mother on a plane back to North Carolina so she can be with the family but, little did