Personal Narrative Essay

Though I didn’t cry in front of my mom, I went in the privacy of my bedroom, and unleased an ocean. It was my junior year. We were almost there. All of my friends and I had been waiting on this moment for three years. We were finally able to say that we were upperclassmen, and, together, we would all graduate the next year. I’d gotten a new haircut over the summer that boosted my confidence, and I was learning to love myself for me. I wasn’t as shy, and it was as if I’d become a magnet for…

My friends were 1.3 meters tall, with dark-green skin color, and wore antiqued “watches”. They were called lockers; my best friends in middle school. I was once submissive. Feared, I would protect myself by speaking “Yes”, “No”, or “I don’t know” to camouflage from others. Every day I would sit in the Special Education hallway with my friends numbered “1023-1031”, plug in my headphones, and separate myself from the rest of the world. Day after day, 6 months passed. One day, I was at my usual…

I was really nervous and didn’t know what it was going to be like. All I knew was that I was probably not going to go home for several hours. My mom told me that it was my first day of school and that there was nothing to worry about. My mom took me to the car and took me to school. The car drive seemed to take forever but finally I got to where I was going. I didn’t know what was going to happen next and I didn’t know that today was going to be a crazy day. I got out of the car and felt the…

I woke up to the sound of my mom bellowing my name from downstairs. I had no idea what I had done this time. I sprung out of bed and trudged out the door. As I approached the bottom of the stairs I saw my mom standing in the kitchen tapping her foot next to the dishwasher, and immediately I knew. The night before I thought that it would be a good idea to take all of the racks out of the dishwasher and turn it in to a farm for frogs. My other had just spoiled my plans. I stepped into the kitchen…

As we walked home, I recounted my realistic nightmare to Grayson, who listened with attentive ears. “And that was when I woke up,” I finished off the retelling as we opened the front door to our house. Grayson blinked in surprise, and exclaimed, “That would make an epic story!” I rolled my eyes, and teased him “Of course that would be your final verdict.” I scuffed upstairs, got into my PJs and dashed back down to grab a snack. T.V time had started and Grayson was already settled on the couch…

In third grade, a boy named Blake - a notorious troublemaker - would chase every girl during class trying to kiss her on the lips. Most of the girls gave in eventually. It was easier to give in than to keep running. When it was my day to be chased, I turned to him, grabbed his glasses off his pudgy face, and stomped on them in front of all the kids on the blacktop. He ran to the principal's office and cried. At that time, it was okay for a girl to do that and normal for boys to cry. In sixth…

I became friends with two other girls and they were a lot different than my best friend. I never went to parties, never smoked or drank, but these girls did. I was hesitant about their lifestyle, but I soon adapted to it and I did all of the things that they did. I had my first alcoholic beverage, I got drunk for the first time and I smoked my first cigarette. I liked the dangerous adventure that came with hanging around them. As time went on, I sort of lost who I was. I knew that smoking and…

I had a pretty typical life before it happened. I lived with my father and my 7-year old brother in the suburbs. The only interesting thing that has happened to me was my mother’s disappearance. It happened a few years ago, we all just woke up one day and she was gone without a trace. Nobody, not even the police, could figure out what had happened. It was a strange coincidence, because the same thing had happened to my grandmother as well. I had an idea of where she went, though. It all…

As a parent it was very hard to hear my child had a learning disability. The first thought that crossed my mind was how will he cope with this, how will I help him to cope, will he have the right support sysytem to overcome the obstacles set in fron of him. I had so many questions and not enough answers. I needed support myself so I could get my son the resources he needed because clearly his school was unaquipt to help me deal with everything my son needed. At the age of four I noticed…

When I was twelve years old, I went to the fair in another city. There were numerous recreational facilities, and the most memorable one, which later become myfavorite, was the Drop. In truth, I was scared when I first decided to go on it because the drop felt like a free fall. When I got to the top , I was wondering why I had forced myself to do this extreme game. This reflects a conflict I often have between my thoughts and my ambitions Often there is something I want to do, but I give up…