My Day - Personal Narrative It is said that 666 is the number of the beast. This is completely wrong. It's 7:00. A pair of words glide slowly through the mists, floating up and down like a newspaper drifting across an empty street carried by a fresh breeze. They approach me, and gradually it occurs to me that the words are "up-town". They are shortly followed by another word, then another, until slowly a number of these words merge together to form a sentence. This sentence sits in the back of my mind for a few seconds like an embarrassed school-boy waiting outside the head-masters office, before eventually gathering the courage needed to break forward. The sentence formed is "Up-town girl, she's been living in an up-town world". My conscious mind slams into gear, missing the clutch and threatening to stall, before the association it has been looking for pops into being, bringing with it all the pain and confusion of a large nuclear warhead - Westlife. My head shoots up off the pillow faster than a bullet from a gun and I turn towards the offending object: my radio alarm clock. Slowly it fuses into a fuzzy mess that my feeble eyes seem to think is focus, and a groan escapes my lips as I see those dreaded numbers - 7:00. I usually lie and reflect for a little while, deciding whether or not to pull the pillow over my head or feign death, but eventually the sound of whining superstar wannabes forces me to throw my covers off in aggravation and jump out of bed. I begin the torturous expedition across the Hiroshima that is my room to my radio, careful to avoid the various jagged objects that viciously position themsel... ... middle of paper ... ... top bunk for their nightly crumpling. This is sometimes assisted by one of the cats, usually Felony (my 20 year old half sister Jessica's cat), sometimes Tiddles (my 17 year old sister Stella's cat), but never Maximillian - my Dad's fat cat, who sleeps on top of the washing machine, or in the dog's bed if the mood suits him. I take no responsibility for any of the names, as I'm not crazy, just a little disturbed. If any of the cats do decide to intervene in the nightly crumpling process, I have to search out some (relatively) clean clothes the next morning. As soon as all of this is dealt with I climb into my bed and either read or make desperate attempts at sleep. When it finally comes, I don't usually notice until the next morning when that noise interrupts again, and that ghastly green glow returns to haunt me…
I woke up this morning readying myself to go check outside for my shadow and doing groundhog stuff when I realised that it was thursday february 2 which means that the humans are gonna be out celebrating Groundhog’s Day dealing with us groundhogs, never leaving us alone. They’re going to take me to a place called Punxsutawney Pennsylvania and put me in a “simulated” tree stump (if it’s cold or not, mind you) and say some sort of speech, or something. There is going to be lots of people there for all the festivities and there’s going to be lots and lots of noise. They’re gonna be there to celebrate this holiday konomicly named “Groundhogs Day”.
Many pivotal moments appear in a human beings life to change the way that individual thinks. All human experiences shape the way a person becomes. The death of my 20 year old second cousin changed my perspective on life. It was not because he was close to me or had a huge impact on my life, but because such a young life ended so suddenly. I got to experience how that impacted and even changed certain people. I came to the realization that all those stories on the news actually happen to real life people. These stories seem so unimaginable, but from that point on, I realized that anything can happen to anyone in the simple blink of an eye. I learned that although every human envisions certain things to occur in their lifetime, many aspects cannot
Going into college I thought everything was going to be a breeze. Actually, I thought it would be just like high school. I quickly found out that, that wasn’t the case. It was so many different people. The setting wasn’t something I was used to at all. You know how in high school majority of the people were goofy not really focused on what they should be focused on? Here it was the total opposite. Everyone was ready to learn and do something with their lives. In high school we never started learning on the first day or even in the first week. I wish it was the same! Then coming home after a long day to nobody at all telling you to clean this, do that, help your sister with this, but actually coming to your room of peace and quiet. All together
6:45 AM. My alarm is barking at me from the other side of my room from where my bed is. I roll my eyes at the fact that I have to get up out of bed to go shut the vexatious sound off. My eyes are still adjusting to the light as I groggily get my clothes, and go to the best place in the house. The bathroom. The bathroom is your ultimate place of privacy. No one goes into a bathroom if someone is already inside. As I walk into the bathroom, my eyes are starting to clear up. I blast my music and hop into the shower. Now, you can probably guess what I was doing. Like a man, I am singing in the shower. After I get done performing in front of my shampoo, I quickly hop out of the shower and get dressed for the day. I go to make myself the
It was a beautiful sunny day, one of the usual working days, and men were rushing to work. Except that, it was something in the air that was carrying the better taste of wariness. The surroundings of our house were mute, and I could see the bird in the trees, but not hear them. Instead, every inch was filled with weird sound of metal grinding. I was too young to realize that on August 2nd, 1990 will be an important day in my life. I learned that day the lesson of my life, how fragile is the peace and that my privileged life in Kuwait was over.
2 Next I have to go through security check which requires my purse and its contents (cellphones turned off, no pencils, pens or paper, not even eyeliner nothing that can be used to write on or with.
My perfect fall day would take place on a cool, Saturday evening in October.I would wake up in the morning.Then i would eat some pancake and then i would take a shower,put on some clothes.I would talk to my mom,my grandmother,and my sister and we would laugh,talk.I would check social media and look at pictures and text my friends back.i would ask my mom ¨ Can i go outside¨ i asked,she would said ¨Have you finish your homework¨ she said, ¨yes,now can i go outside¨ i asked,¨yes,but ask your sister if she want to go outside too¨ she said,¨okay¨.Then i go outside and play with my friends,my friend would tell a joke ¨laughs¨.Then i would go back in the house and take a shower.Then i would check my social media, and do my streaks.Then when my sister
Once there was a man named Bobby O’brien, and never in his life did he do work, unless he was obligated to. He claimed to be so mesmerized by work, that all he wanted to do was sit and watch others do work all day. Bobby lived with his wife, Katie and his two daughters, Elizabeth and Marsha. His family was often annoyed with him, and wished that he would at least try to get a job, or work.
“Look at the terrorist”. Muslims kids growing up always have it difficult in America than, say Christians. All throughout middle school, people called me a terrorist. From Kindergarten, I wanted to fit in with all the seemingly “perfect kids” in school. Before, perfection for me meant being popular along with doing whatever you wanted without worrying about the consequences. Eating gelatin at school, letting my hair fall freely, and listening to music. It’s like my first ever school memory described myself feeling left out. No matter what I did, I felt ostracized by the rest of my classmates. Every day in Elementary school, I’d be doomed, I dealt with bullying and people judging my religion. In Middle School I felt consonant, I needed to adjust
Waking up to a new day. As I rise from my bed I look off into the distance of my bedroom. The bedroom of my house, my very own property. I sit up from my bed, and start contemplating whether or not this is all a dream. But no, this is reality. My reality. I thank you lord for another day it is still very surreal where I am in my life now. 30 years old, living in a 3 story house with two beautiful girls, twins as a matter of fact. A gorgeous view of the world around us, looking out the windows of this gigantic house you can see nothing but beauty. Life at its finest and purity. I always keep a bible and a cross by my bedside and never forget where I came from. The real me, is me. That will never change. Nor will it ever impact me as a father to my beloved children.
Ever since I was little I’ve been what you would call a “high achieving” kid. I did well in school, I did well in sports and I did well in my community. I was always the first one to class, and the last one to leave the field. I was the kid that all my friends’ parents compared their children to. I was the kid with a room full of trophies and awards. In my mind, the worst possible thing I could do was disappoint the people around me. In elementary school I was involved in every club imaginable. I was in the band, I played in the orchestra, I sang solos for chorus, I was in the math club, I was president of student council, I played travel soccer, I was involved in every activity possible, and I excelled in all of them. This
Eight months ago, January 11th at 7:48pm to be exact, was the best day of my life. The day I’ve been waiting for since early 2009, when I was only 13 years old. That dream of mine, I shared with someone very close to me. The faces on me and my best friend was unimaginable, expressing all the emotions one could possibly express. Our eyes were watery from happiness and nervous laughter. Our hands were shaky and sweaty. It was an unbelievable feeling where someone had to pinch our arms to know that we weren’t dreaming. What we didn’t knew was that our dream wouldn’t actually come true.
The light from the sun reflects off the pure white wall, illuminating the room. The dust floats, undisturbed by the empty house. This is what I see as I launch myself out the door, into the hot summer air, into the sounds of playing children.
Over the summer I went to Kings Island with my close friend, Elizabeth, and her family. We drove to Ohio and stayed in a hotel for three days. The drive was about three hours and let me tell you, three hours in a car with Elizabeth and her brothers is odd. We brought two totes of snacks and it was pretty much all gone by the time we got to the hotel. My friend and I slept most of the drive so we didn’t have much trouble.
I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.