Personal Narrative

The sparks fly in the air, there are marshmallows in your hair, and you’re with your favorite people in the world. This is called the best place on earth, for me at least. I enjoy camping so very much, you meet new people, experience different things, make new memories, and have a blast. You also see new sights, smell some things, and always wake up to the birds singing and not the bustling streets of the city. Camping is my go to activity.

I remember it as if it happened yesterday. The strange sound of my mom's phone was loud and alarming. I decided to ignore it and go back to sleep. Soon after I went back to sleep, my mom came in my room. I sat up in my bed with my eyes half opened, and I remember the puzzled look on her face. It was frightening like if she had just been told something unexpected and upsetting. And at that exact moment, I knew exactly what she was going to say, and I froze in fear. She sat next to me and nervously mumbled ¨Your grandma passed away¨. I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to believe it. The exact same four words kept repeating over and over in my head and I felt like the whole world was spinning. Without even realizing, I then found myself bawling my eyes out. I had so many mixed emotions. I was heartbroken, I was angry and I was upset. My mom told me to get dressed since we were going to the hospital but I refused to go. I was upset and all I wanted to do was to be alone. My mom then left after having a talk with me about my grandma. I started to feel better and I was starting to accept that things happen for a reason, but it also started to feel like there was a huge hole in my

On 10/02/2017 at 0017 hours, units were dispatched to 627 Central Ave for a report of a Domestic involving a knife. I responded at emergency speed, priority one. Upon my arrival, I located the accused female in the bathroom.

The most important game of the year was coming up and I was ready. Everything was going perfect for me, because I was the starting QB as a freshmen at Englert High School. We were playing Joston High School the number 1 team in the nation since 1960, it was going to be a tough game because they had the number 1 ranked defense, but we had the best offense. The day before the game was just a normal day I went to school and had football practice after school. A couple weeks ago one of the other teams that we had played earlier in the year wanted another game so we decided to play them. They had been the hardest team we had played all year, we had only beat them by a last efforts field goal it hardly went in as it bounced in off the crossbar.

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

Baghdad, Iraq is where I was born and raised; I lived there for about 6 years during the most pivotal years of the war. My dad left when I was about 7 months. He went to Lebanon to live for a few years before settling in the United States. My mom took care of me and my siblings. War was going on in Iraq; people walked with a dying heart. Iraq was split into Shiite, Sunni, and Christianity. Sunni and Shiite do not have any issues with one another, but there are people who do not like the Shiites and caused civil strife between the two divisions of Islam. My family is Shiite and we do not believe in a separation between anyone because we are one, they are

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.

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.

I started playing volleyball in 3rd grade. My dad wanted me to play because my sister also played. It was my first day being a 3rd grader and my dad told me I should get into volleyball. From there I wasn’t sure if I wanted to play. I watched my sister play every game and it looked like it was hard so I didn’t think I could do it.

Were I to name one thing unique about me, it would be that I’m one of the only people I know who can say from experience which is more difficult; writing a personal essay or surviving a life-or-death, take-no-prisoners spy shootout, complete with a crowd of bad guys, laser guns, and of course, a hero and a sidekick. I’m the sidekick.

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.

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

When deciding what to write this paragraph on I had to choose a topic that I know a lot bout, and feel strongly for. I decided that I would write on how I met my boyfriend Conor, because it’s a very complicated story. It was early January when I first met Conor, but I didn’t know anything about him, but a few weeks later I found myself hanging out with a few friends and this kid who was always around. We all decided we liked having each other around, so we kept hanging out for a few more days… by this time it was the end of March and Easter break was coming up fast. I was flying out to San Diego, April 2nd, there was supposed to be an ice storm the day of my flight so I left two days early. When I was packing I thought why not snap chat my

I grew up in a very poor neighborhood hood, so everyday for me was difficult not knowing if I will eat or sleep on the streets. I can remember the moment where my father abandoned my mother and I. I was very young at the time I had just turned 7 years old. My father and mother had a very unhappy relationship it was very easy to tell they were not happy. I remember it was a Monday, November 4, 2002 my mother was staying with my aunt because my aunt was diagnosed with cancer and my mother was helping her out. It was my birthday I was so excited that day because I was suppose to get a gift from my father. I woke up that morning ran quickly to his room to find him not there, I ran outside thinking he was fixing his car or just rebuilding the birdhouse

I clearly remember the day I found out about my granddad's passing. I was at school. It was a normal, joyful day. My dad was planning on picking me up, but instead my friend's mom picked me up. He would not tell me why, but I did not think much of it. I remember the car ride to my house. My friend's mom would not tell me why she was driving me home; all she told me was, "Just know, Ryan, that we will be here for you no matter