Personal Narrative

Even though I have no trouble reading I have always struggled with writing, even to this day, so I shall write about today. I am struggling to think of a subject to write about as I offhandedly work on a late project for Mr. Lyday’s class. As I struggle I realized that there are too many distractions in this room, the melodies playing loudly through my earbuds, my fluffy, soft, warm gray cat affectionately named Gray. The most potent distraction at the moment is my phone vibrating with a sharp, loud, repetitive “VVrt! VVrt!” Which draws my attention towards the friends I miss so greatly. As I move to a quieter, less distracting room, I realize that the greatest distraction is my own mind, I over think the most insignificant, I second guess

I unplugged and turned it off in a hurry. I goggled at the school--it looked like a castle from a story book! I was grinning like a fool, as Prefect so kindly told me (and I retorted saying that he’s got a stick up his behind--he didn’t seem to get it, and it made me go “Ha Ha!” internally, even if he did, I wasn’t paying much attention, as my focus was on the school). I began to bounce excitedly in my seat. “This is going to be awesome!” I whispered under my breath.

William took a sip of his gin and tonic and smiled, trying to feel comfortable among the naïve students at the local college bar. It was loud and overcrowded. He glanced down at his phone, the brightness from the screen briefly burning his eyes. The time was 1:58AM and she still wasn’t here. He softly ran his fingers through his hair…slightly frustrated. She said she would be here thirty minutes ago. I hate this place anyway…

I sit at the polished wooden table covered with endless papers, some of them mine, others not. The dining room is hazy, only the laptop and essay are clear to me. For the most part, I write in dead silence; occasionally, the heater and my mother’s footsteps disturb this peace. My phone buzzes sporadically, text messages and sports alerts light up the screen a few feet away from me. “I should really turn that off,” I think to myself, “This only serves as a distraction.” The dust in the room causes me to sneeze, breaking my concentration here and there. Besides the dust, the air in the room smells like

The pile of clothes on the floor had grown to the point it was level with the bed. Normally this would have driven me crazy. I don't really know what it was about this switch. I just felt...comfortable. I'd been awake for a while, but was just browsing Reddit for a while. Then I noticed the time: 11:45. Going to be late again. I'm mostly muscle memory from this point. Grab my bag and wipe some deodorant on. Smell a few t-shirts in the pile until I find the least offensive one. Cursory tooth brushing. Run out the door to try to catch the bus that will get me to work by 12:10.

Sitting in a hospital waiting room, alone, afraid; and waiting for the news; would she be ok? Would she even survive? My nerves were out of control; my heart was beating through my chest, you could literally see it thumping through my top. The beads of sweat racing down my forehead, as if I was in the middle of the Safari dessert. I have been an athlete my entire life, yet I have never felt so physically drained. I look around, my eyes opening, then closing; as if I am coming in and out of consciousness, then suddenly echoed words begin to ring around my ear drums….” Sir…...sir, can you hear me? Sir please, we need to know what happened. We need to know what happened to her. Maybe my motionless state showed my

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

Her baggy eyes struggle to stay open as she types each dreaded letter. She has not slept and the sun comes out to tell her that she cannot anyways. Class starts in an hour and her morning routine takes half of that time that she should use to finish her work. It takes her ten minutes to walk to class but she is running on no sleep; she needs twenty minutes to make it there on time. That gives her ten minutes to complete her argumentative essay for College Writing, enough time to pull all of her ideas together. However, she slowly gives up, and while rubbing her eyes and closing her laptop, she thinks to herself, “What’s the point?”

all the people, you widely look around and see everything is already going to be so much fun. We finally pull up, and found a spot, and we started walking up to the entrance we had to get tickets first it was definitely a nervous experience we finally get to the gate, and walk in, and we started deciding which side to go on so we decide to start at the mummy that’s something I got to talk about. Ok so we go and get in line, the line was long. So we waited and waited and finally got a chance to go on but before we got on, me and my friend saw this one sign that said, high speed roller coaster and we lost it! I have never been on a roller coaster before. So anyways we got to the front,

The buzzing of the bell echoed in the crowded hallway. It echoed even louder in my ears. The sound of footsteps followed as the high school students rushed to their classes. On my own, I stood there with my textbook in my hands as I skimmed through paragraphs one after another. I tried to soak up as much information as I could but I knew better that it was all in vain. It was hard to concentrate with my heart pounding loudly in my chest. “I’m going to fail” I told myself as cold beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Nevertheless, I kept trying to make sense out of these scrambled words in front of me. Midway my mind began to drift. I could almost see myself in my room last night, lying on my comfy warm bed with the phone in my hand. I remember

Click, tap, cling. Those sounds are pretty much my life. When I’m not in the computer lab working on our school’s newspaper, The Bulldog Bulletin, I’m either studying or have my nose in a book. I like to work on the newspaper at home, too - locked in my bedroom. It drowns out the sound of constant fighting between my parents, or the TVs blasting ESPN or The Food Network.

I paced up and down my trashed room, finding my gear. As soon as I gathered everything I jumped into my snow pants, zipped on my coat, and was ready. Running downstairs, nearly tripping over some loose clothes, I pulled on my boots and ran outside. Once I took a hurried step, I sank all the way down to the sidewalk.

The only sound that filled my ears was my keyboard clicking as my fingers raced across it. I had been procrastinating from finishing this assignment all evening, but I knew I needed to get it done. The burning sunset was shining through the windows as I was finishing up. It was a peaceful silence, until I heard the soft whispers of my parents that ignited my sense of curiosity. I was concentrating hard; doing my best trying to make out the hushed words that were being spoken.

“Coming right down.” I shouted back to my dad. Hopping out of bed, I pulled on my favorite t-shirt and most comfortable shorts, stuffed some clothes into a small duffel bag, and pounded down the stairs.

Twenty-six students, myself included, chattered at our desks in Mrs. Jacob’s bright orange, poster covered room. “Hey, when is that paper for history due? Today? You have to be kidding me.” “Can you submit some artwork to the Student Literary Arts Magazine? We don’t have nearly enough.” “I was up until three A.M. AGAIN last night doing homework.” “No band practice tonight! I can go home and sleep!” A melodic buzz of voices saturated the air, accented by the rhythmic tapping and scribbling of pencils. A low hum could be heard for a millisecond before the bell toned over our voices, signaling the start of class.