Personal Narrative

It was a normal chilly sunday on September 13th, 2015. My dad was in the garage with some of his friends watching the football game. It was the Dallas Cowboys vs. the New York Giants. My dad and his friends were making hot dogs and burgers on the grill but I don’t like those so I asked my dad if I could go to the store and get the ingredients to make taco dip. He handed me $20 and I headed off to the store with one of my dad’s friend’s son. The store was at the end of my street so it wasn’t a far walk.

When I was young in primary school, I was nine years old; I was a very quiet and shy girl outside with strangers. When my mom and dad had their friends at my house, or any one comes to visit us, I was still shy, but in our home I was very active and naughty, I was playing everywhere, I was playing with my sisters and I was born in a big house

Tuesday, March 6th, 2018 at approximately 4:30 p.m., I Detective L. Donegain was contacted by Sergeant P. Orellano in-reference to a possible overdose at 415 Tradewinds Drive apartment B, Fayetteville, North Carolina 28304. I was advised Patrol Officers were on scene and standing by.

I was ready. This was how we were going to start off the season. Everyone was ready, thinking this was it. We wanted to be the best team on the ice. The coaches came into the room saying, “Let’s go, boys. Let’s start the season off on fire . . . big win today!”

    It was six A.M. on a beautiful yet brisk Saturday morning and I was fast asleep. Suddenly I was ripped from my blissful dream world by the incessant blaring of my alarm. Groggy, I shut off the alarm and stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast. I had a light breakfast consisting of warm cinnamon toast and butter so as to not upset my stomach during the looming Cross Country race.

Well today is finally here. My final day of my eighth grade year. I've grown up so fast since I moved to Peersville. A few weeks ago we had the high school cheer tryouts and I am officially going to be a high school cheer leader. Peersville is a small town. Not much to do here just a pool, bowling alley and a few parks. Oh, by the way I'm Faith Flintwood, your average middle schooler. I'm 14 years old and just beginning my summer.

There is someone I wish was still around from before that is my dad. He passed away in the first week of summer the summer before 6th grade. I lived with my mom until I was 7 then he went and got visitations so he seen me every Wednesday and every other weekend in the summers I was at his house 1 week and my mom's 1 week. Sometimes when he was close to my house or my grandmas he would bring me "care packages" they were mainly toys the one I remember was he was at Walmart and in the middle of the night he brought me Legos the Legos were batman ones. One Christmas he brought my a huge monster truck it was remote control it was about 2 feet tall I had it for a couple years I really liked to do donuts with it in the snow. He had a girl fried and

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

Hello! I hope everyone is having a great day/afternoon/night. I’m Mayra Barragan, I’m Mexican, so yay tacos and burritos! No, I’m just playing. I do love tacos, but believe it or not, that’s not all we eat or that we tremendously adore. I am the type of person who would rather keep to themselves than socialize and attempt to make new friends because I’m not so good at it. Singing, drawing, decorating, crafting, listening to music, reading and writing are not only my hobbies but some are also my passions. English is my absolute favorite subject because the ways we can utilize it are endless and can also be very creative.

If you were to ask me why I love running the hurdles you would probably expect to hear this long story about this life changing event that happened to me which made me love running, but that’s not the case. In high school I was on the shuttle hurdle team, I wasn’t the best nor the worst, but I was the most motivated. Everyday I went to practice and pushed myself to the point were my coach would make me stop. I wasn’t motivated to be the best nor to win every race. I was motivated by the thought of going to state or even winning state.

Chelsea woke up with the most peculiar feeling on monday. She felt like she had had the most vivid dream last night—one of those really disturbing ones that you couldn't quite remember but you seemed glad it wasn't real when you woke up. Shrugging off the thought, she quickly got changed into her uniform and headed to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before heading off to high school. It was the last week of term before the holidays, and she was looking forward to spending some time with friends over the break.

In late September of 2010, was the year I learned a new word “Depression”! I was in 1st grade and everything was fun because I had no responsibilities or worries. I didn’t know how to feel grief for a long time because I was always happy. I didn’t know that a family member could own a child.

My family never stayed in one place for more than two years at a time. This was a difficult feat to overcome for any child, but when you’re a dependent of Uncle Sam you press with the motion of the aircraft. I was twelve, when that aircraft landed in the desolate wasteland called Sierra Vista, Arizona. This place was going to be the worst place we have ever moved to. I had imagined living in a tipi and spending countless hours cleaning the sand that blew in the flap, so I thought. My childhood could have been as I imagined, but my mother allowed me to be a child that could play hide and go seek, frolic in the trees, swim in the pools regardless of the obstacles we faced as a family.

I look around the dark room, watching my allies. One sharpening one of his swords, another punching a bag of sand. And another boy in the window looking down over the city. I sit in the corner, just watching them. All I can think is, how did I become a fugitive of the entire country? I stand up and wander to the door.

My parents had been working before I was born, especially my mom worked at the Korean Consulate in Atlanta, USA, so my grandparents usually took care of me mainly, until my 4th grade. By the time I got to kindergarten, my grandfather retired and was always with me. From that moment, my grandfather took my hand with one hand and the camera with the other. Canon Photura, a cylinder-shaped and bigger than his hand, was always carried in his hand as if now we have a smartphone. In spring, I went to see the cherry blossoms in the park with him, and the camera was filled with my figure that laughs like cherry blossoms in full bloom. I went to the park near my house for a picnic in spring. Then, as if we going out and returning home and greeting when the leaf of the maple is dyed to let us know