Personal Narrative: It's Me Hayes

Francie would always stay up every night, just to greet her father at the door when he got home. She was always delighted when she heard Johnny singing, while coming up the stairs. Francie would love to talk with Johnny all night since it was the only time she got to see the person she loved the most in the world. After Johnny passed, Francie was absolutely devastated and we all hope that she will recover from such a horrible thing. You always saw the best in Johnny and never thought of the things that belittled how perfect he was to you. We hope that you grow up to be a successful woman, I am sure your father would be so proud of your accomplishments. We hope you can eventually put this behind your back and not have to be haunted by it

He knew it was going to be a no excuses to lose to weather and it was going to be a good day for fans to watch football tonight. He had met with Kyle Cannon who was the quarterback for the team and a running back on the team named Dion Gordon;

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

I have lived in only one location my entire life: Edwardsville, Illinois. A peripheral suburb of St. Louis, it stands as the rare oasis of people in a desert of corn, pinned in its own personal bubble. Due to this blend of time and isolation, I developed a natural familiarity with my hometown. But, throughout my childhood, I longed to break free from the confines of the bubble and venture outward. However, this changed last summer, as I walked through Richards Brickyard, our family heirloom, that my great-grandfather, Benjamin Richards, founded over 120 years ago. I felt these childlike sentiments slip away. The bubble that had surrounded me for so long began to vanish, and the picture that it had been obscuring was slowly revealed.

When it comes to what separates me from other teenagers, there would be quite a bit to tell. I would say a major difference which separates me from my peers is my love for barbershop harmony music. I do not have a quartet of my own; however, I love to sing barbershop tags with other friends at church. I set myself apart from the world because of my beliefs: as a New Testament christian, I believe the bible gives us all instruction concerning spiritual matters.

At a young age, I moved from the country I was born in (Dominican Republic) to Miami Florida. Moving is not an easy thing to do, I had to leave all of my friends and family behind and become familiarized with uncertain place. I was surrounded by the unknown, everything was strange and so different to what I was usually use to. At the time I could not speak any English at all but that eventually did not matter to me, I slowly started adapting to my new environment and I became more positive. Although I could not communicate well and had a few obstacles I was very organized with my studies and kept very decent grades.

It was a cool November day, in the middle of Afghanistan. As a medic, I was sitting outside my make shift aid station with one of my buddies sharing stories about home. We hear a loud explosion right outside of the wire. I looked up and could see the cloud of smoke billowing up from about two hundred meters away. Not knowing how bad the situation was, I grabbed a few of my soldiers, our translator and my aid bag and ran straight to the smoke. When we got there, a group of civilians were huddled around a group of people who were yelling, screaming and crying. The translator found out that a group of three men and three children were walking around a field when one of the children stepped on a mine. One of my soldiers grabbed the mine

At a very young age, I began making my own decisions and putting myself first. After my parents got divorced, my mom decided to move. The move wasn't small. In fact, it was a very large one. We were moving halfway across the world. I did not understand why we had to move but I knew my mom would always make the best decisions for our family. First, it seemed cool when I was telling everybody. But then it hit me hard, knowing that I wasn't going to see my friends and family for a very long time. At the age of eight, I did not understand what was going on. I felt like I was out of the loop. I was going to have to make new friends and meet new people even though I did not know the language. Even when it came to finding something to eat, we did not know how to order food. It was a great struggle that was hard to overcome.

She carries symbolic bracelets and tangled up headphones and torn playbills. She carries crumpled sheet music, a highlighted play script, a rusty gun and holster, an old calculator, worn out journals for writing fragmented lyrics, passionate feelings, unforgotten memories, and so much more. Twice or three times a week she carries packets of law and a lunch that was packed that morning. She carries a water bottle that is always half empty, or much like herself, half full, depending on how you see it. Wyatt carries the priceless shark tooth necklace she gave him, locked away somewhere unknown. Hannah carries the cheap but meaningful books that she gave her, unread but still valued. Her mother carries the candy she gave her, hard but sweet, a reflection of her soul. Something they all carried in common, was that they all carried something that was given; taking turns, they carried pieces of her shattered heart.

People often think of language as a connector, something that brings people together by helping them share experiences, feelings, ideas, etc. We, however, are interested in how language sets people apart. Start with the peculiarities of your own personal language—the voice you use when speaking most intimately to yourself, the vocabulary that spills out when you're startled, or special phrases and gestures that no one else seems to use or even understand—and tell us how your language makes you unique. You may want to think about subtle riffs or idiosyncrasies based on cadence, rhythm, rhyme, or (mis)pronunciation.

If I'm in...I'll be All-In. While I'll be the first of family and friends to attend the University of Colorado, Boulder and unsure of the challenges within the campus community, I know myself. I am at my best when I fully commit.

It was a Saturday morning and I woke up earlier than usual. It was 8:00 and I normally wake up

Staring at blank space in the dark. Tucked under my covers, tear stains on my face. Red as a tomato itself. I couldn't comprehend why was I was being punished. I did everything right, everything that you could think of. Mistakes were made here and there but as for myself, I was a good person. I know that everyone's worried. Till this day I cried and cried every night to a cold empty pillow where he use to lay wondering how. Memories floods my mind with every object that comes across my sight. Reminiscing as if it were yesterday. In my 2014 Chevy Malibu laughing, enjoying what God created. I smiled, a smile that stretched across my face as the cool autumn breeze kissed my skin. Staring at the most beautiful human being I could ever imagine.

Hello, Dr. Taft, I look forward to another exciting semester with you, and my cohorts exploring my inner and outer world. Let’s start with my family constellations it begins with my stepmother, and my father, my older brother Steven along with myself. At the time, I did not know that Ann was my stepmother, and I did not find out until I was older, and she had two sons who lived in Arizona. A few years later her eldest son Tommy would come to live with us, and the life that we were accustomed to would change the outcome of all our lives.