Personal Narrative

One day my cousins had visited us from Texas . We all wanted to go to Wet N Wild .Then I had asked my dad if he could take us to Wet N Wild . Then he said ,"yes", but we will go on a Saturday . Then Saturday comes.It was a very sunny day with a bit of wind.

Warily, I walked over to where my father was standing right outside the school, waiting for Cole and I, when I saw he had shades on, I knew for sure that something was wrong, due to the fact he never wore shades. When we were to the pick-up my whole family was in there. Noticing, when I jumped in the pick-up, my mother also had shades on. Anxiously, I sat there attentively for the longest second of my life, then my father stammered to us that grandfather had passed away. Countless emotions were running through me, overwhelmed; I didn’t know what to think, raving; owing to they said he was going to be adequate, grieving; due to I didn’t get to talk t6o my grandfather before he passed

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

When I was younger I had always been described as mature. Although I wasn’t anywhere near being “mature”, it was a word always used to describe me, well-mannered and mature. While my brother was goofy and social, I was shy and serious. We were twins yet total opposites. As a child, because that was the word almost always associated with me, it crae unusual, almost toxic idea about myself. I had to be mature to be what people liked about me. So, it never occurred to me to be able to not take myself seriously and say something like “Oops that was dumb” and laugh it off. For some reason that didn’t make sense to me to say silly things like that.

I been through a lot to be of assistance for this awesome police officer in Chicago, Illinois. I went through being distributed from Cupertino, California to Chicago, to being manufactured in South Korea, being made into many different parts to be an intermediate good, and being different parts as a raw material. I’m starting with who I am ,I am a iPhone 7 Red.{I know, I know, I am fancy} I am with this officer where I go all around Chicago with my owner Officer Jentson and we go fight crime and help other around our community. I came to Officer Jentson through the FedEx mail. I originally came from different parts of the world. Before I got to Officer Jentson I was in Cupertino, California going through the distribution process, that process

It was a cold day in November as I scampered out of my Biology class, unsatisfied with the grade that I had received on my exam. I rushed to the basement of my campus’s athletic facility brimming over with frustration and quickly tossed aside my school supplies in exchange for a pair of soccer cleats and goalkeeper gloves. I threw over my grass-stained gray cotton sweatshirt, stepped outside to the bite of an approaching winter and joined my comrades in our warm-up lines. The boys were all laughing and talking about what happened over the weekend as we prepared for another practice. Being surrounded by my teammates made me forget about my worries and allowed me to disappear into the routine of physical activity. My collegiate varsity soccer

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

About two years ago, my husband, my two sons and I lived in a small village, where we had our own farm that we took care of. My husband was a farmer, and we provided food that was sold to gain money. Our farm was prospering, and it did not seem like anything bad would happen. We spoke too soon. It was a tragic day; our crops wilted and died due to the dry, hot climate. With the loss of our crops, we could not make profit, so we did not have enough money to pay for our farm. In the end we lost everything. Luckily, we had enough money to rent land. This certainly was not the life I wanted for my family.

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,

I sat down with my boy on the recliner he hopped up as I read the paper back to him. This seemed Like a cozy get up for a boy to grow up in, but as I began to read my mind was adrift into other things. I had to split sometime soon but I couldn’t help think “what awaits me there?” I thought of a time when I lived in the city, New Orleans. Late one night while I was a private dick I lit my cigarette and began listening to the smooth jazz of the night. The cool wind of the night brushed my face and wavered my smoke as I pulled my hat down I noticed some grifter out of the corner of my eye. I kept walking. The sly grifter moved along the shadows.

“We don’t have anytime time to waste today guys, get moving!” my mom announced. My brother was coming today and she wanted the house to be spotless. We had just started fall break and I was in the fourth grade. I was playing games and relaxing like any 10 year old would do. My dad was lounging on the couch watching some show, and my siblings were running around. By then I had only 5 siblings, 2 sisters and 3 brothers. We had known for a while that Johnny, age 9 at the time, was coming to live with us, what we didn’t know was that he would bring with him a fish. I was happier than a child opening presents on Christmas. The fish was a beautiful white male betta with long flowing fins. He lived in a small 1 gallon tank with blue pebbles, pointy

It felt like Christmas morning. In June. Ripping open the package, I couldn’t remember ever being more excited. I finally had it. The Apex 37. The newest, nicest, cleanest looking longboard to be released, and I was lucky enough to have it. I tore open that box as fast as I could, ripped the plastic off, and there it was. The most beautiful slab of wood I had ever seen. A clean strip of carbon fibre traced the center length of the board from tail to tail with the detailed “Original” logo placed perfectly in the middle. The crisp metallic trucks glistened on either side, and connected to them, the bright purple wheels, freshly ground for the perfect, buttery finish. My heart filled, and my passion fueled. I will never forget the feeling of standing

“Daniel I don’t even know how to begin to tell you this.” I say while shaking my head.

One bright Sunday morning, I remember hearing a robin chirp and wind swooshing through a ten feet tall tree branch. I saw my mother struggled with party supplies, as I sat on my rusty our-wheel wagon. Her hands sweaty, and her feet moved slowly each step she took towards the house. Her facial expression described the pain she was in. My father was not around to help her financially or emotionally. I was only five years old, but seeing my mother in pain broke my heart. I rushed over to help her with the supplies. The door squeaked when she opened it and she yelled, “You shouldn’t have to do this son, your father should be here, but he is a coward.”

Early in the month of June I was riding shotgun in the car with my mom and three half-sisters. The sky was a creamy orange, punctuated by a late setting sun in front of us as we headed back to Avon that evening. My mom doesn 't like to answer the phone while she 's driving, and remembered that she had missed a call from my grandmother earlier. Her hands on the wheel, she asked me to listen to the voicemail. I heard my grandmother 's tired voice. "I got a call today about Ryan...”. My throat dried up. "If you could just call back to talk about it sometime tonight or tomorrow...." she trailed off. Ryan was my dad, whom I had never met due to his unwillingness to play the part. I put the phone down and relayed the words to her. I could practically see the lump in her throat as we drove to my grandmother 's apartment, where the two of them discussed the information through tears and choked up voices. He was dying in a hospital bed in Tampa. The message carried less weight to me, though. After all, this was a complete stranger. But for my