Personal Narrative: Is It Worth It?

getting to them. It had been an unusually cool day for January, with temperatures hovering around 

I closed my eyes, exhaled as much as I could, and pushed. Face first, I was thrown against the first gate. My thoughts threatened to permeate

I wrap my scarf around my neck and reach down to lace up my boots. Careful not to drop my cross body bag as it swings down, I stand up straight and walk out the door. As I lock the front door behind me, I inhale a deep breath. This is my favorite time of year. The air is brisk, yet the sun is warm on my skin. I begin my walk to work since my car officially died yesterday. This is the third time this month, but I don’t really mind. I love walking when the weather is like this. The sounds of leaves crunching beneath my feet sounds like music.

I feel as if my stomach has turned inside out. The sun screams at me with its fiery heat blistering my fragile skin. So many regrets, this pain is unbearable. Starving to death in the safety of my box would’ve been better than enduring this torture. I’ve given up, my legs trembled and collapsed leaving me laid out in the dust without the strength to move.

Cold rain is falling outside. The cold leaves me leaning against the telephone box, unable to move.

Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?

The trip from Tuscon was a long and wretched drive. It had just rained the night prior so the air was hot and sticky. The sweat clung to me like glue, and was impossible to peel off. The only thing holding my sanity together is the book I brought with me, Wuthering Heights. Otherwise I would have jumped out of the car an hour ago. My mom on the other hand appears unaffected by the humidity; currently she's tapping her hands on the steering wheel to the rhythm and humming to whatever she was listening to on the radio. Right now I can imagine my two friends Stefanie and Alex sitting in their bedrooms under the arctic blast of their air conditioner. Oh how I wish I was within the radious of a working AC. The car's AC has not been working for

I stopped near the kitchen door and checked the temperature. It was set for 68 degrees. I mean that's chilly but not cold enough to see your breath! My brows furrowed together and I walked into the kitchen for my blanket. On the way back to my gaming room I dropped the blanket and opened my closet. I fumbled around and pulled out a few more blankets. Three sharp knocks erupted from the front door and I stood still. Like a deer in headlights, I didn't move for a few long

So then I go, and find Mrs. Price and tell her, ¨The red sweater wasn't mine. I knew adults weren't right all the time.¨ So I yell at the top of my lungs to Mrs. Price, ¨YOU BELIEVE ALL THE STUDENTS AND YOU ALWAYS YELL AT ME, I WISH YOU NEVER TEACHED HERE, I JUST WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE.” Then Mrs. Price tells me to go to the office. So I stomp my feet on the floor ,and go to the office. When I get into Mr. BobbyJoe’s office i talk to him and tell him what had happened. He says to me, “Now Rachel I know how you feel if I were you I would do the same thing. So what i want you to do is to go and tell Mrs. Price your sorry while I go and call your parents then come back.” So I go back to the class room and tell Mrs. Price that I was

The overstretched fake smiles and false enthusiasm futilely hid the jittered look held within during my first major audition. Six months of hard work and preparation was overpowered by stress coming in the form of sweat and unnecessary bathroom breaks. Ashamed and terrified of performing as a soloist, the metal strings shrieked during the audition in front of the white tarp hiding the judgement that I feared. The truth was a bittersweet reality that I brought home as a trophy while the event laughed at my incompetence as a cellist.

I reluctantly crawled out of my bed, incapable of staying any longer. The harsh sound of my exhalations filled the small space and I determinedly fought my way across the wooden floor.

You managed to pick yourself up and move. You had lost your appetite and decided to go to bed early. The following weeks seemed to crawl by. It wasn't until you saw that fuzzy shape following you that time seemed to return to normal.

Head spinning and sleep deprived, my black and white-striped Adidas drag across the taupe cement floor, begging to come to a stop in front of the lockers in the backroom. The cold steals away my sense of feeling, yet my nose still manages to alert to how cold it is by allowing nasal fluids to dominate. I sniff. Today is going to be long.

she was. Once, everyone was awake and dressed at 8 o'clock we went over to the main lodge to find our friends Chris and Lynda Schatz, with their friend Tim Isbell already eating. It seems that it’s always a buffet here with the same thing as yesterday, but there was hash brown shredding's instead of squares, and I once again had cinnamon rolls, apple juice and bacon, excluding biscuits because they were just nasty. We ate our breakfast and chit chatted, but while we were doing that the weather turned nasty, and the wind was howling much more than it had yesterday.

Racing thoughts encircling in tangled ways always led me back to one question, “What difference would it make?” Throughout 3 years, I was never able to figure it out until my whole life shifted. However, I always believed in the simple fact that everything happens for a reason. Meaning that every decision I’d make was destined for me to get something out of it, either learning from my mistakes, bettering myself, or recognizing my bad habits.