Dear journal, I feel like absolute crap, my head is burning up. It all started after I got done swimming in the lake, it was if as soon as I got out of the water steam was coming off my head. I went to my dad and he felt my head and said it might be just my body reacting to being in the sun all day. I honestly blew it off because if my dad doesn’t think it’s a big deal then neither should I. I left my dad in the house to walk on the trails in the backyard. I walked around for an half an hour and came upon my tree house, I pulled myself into the tree and scaled the tree house and pushed myself in. Kirsten was already there. Waiting. I asked her if I felt warm and she just blew it off like I was losing it. I knew that it wasn’t a big deal then.
When I went to bed on that cold Halloween night, I thought it would be like any other. Well, I was dead wrong. As I slowly walked down the creaky stairs, I could hear the quiet laughter of whatever was down there. I was very scared but I wanted to see what the noise was, so i tried not to make any noise while I went down the stairs so whatever was down there wouldn't hear me. I saw something reddish and i heard someone saying OH YEAH! I then ran upstairs and shut my door. I tried to think of what i've heard OH YEAH from, and then i realized it was from a commercial, a kool aid commercial. So i thought to myself why would he kool aid man be at my house and then i remembered I threw away a whole bottle of kool aid yesterday. Now a guess he has
Personal narratives allow you to share your life with others and vicariously experience the things that happen around you. Your job as a writer is to put the reader in the midst of the action letting him or her live through an experience. Although a great deal of writing has a thesis, stories are different. A good story creates a dramatic effect, makes us laugh, gives us pleasurable fright, and/or gets us on the edge of our seats. A story has done its job if we can say, "Yes, that captures what living with my father feels like," or "Yes, that’s what being cut from the football team felt like."
Birds and stars were flying right above me. I sat there looking at them for a while. Still squeezing the ball for five seconds and releasing for three. I could not think of anything my head felt fuzzy, so I continued to look at the birds and stars despite that these were warning signs. Somebody was right beside me I could not make out who. Perhaps, I should tell him. I debated it until it just slipped out of my mouth, “Heya, dude, I am feeling a lit- little lightheaded here.” My thoughts were racing now, Did he hear me? Wouldn’t they do something? Do they know what to do? Should I try again? Okay the most logical thing to do is to try and tell him again, he must of not heard me, he wouldn’t just leave me here. Though I decided that I was going to tell him, my head was still fuzzy, I continued to look at the birds and the stars. Wait, why am I here? What
I come home with bruises all over my body. When I get home, I take a nippy ice bath, hoping I will not be so sore. I fill the bath tub with freezing water first, then I get in. I make my mom pour the ice into the water after that, so that I might be used to the coldness. It instantly gives me goosebumps. I try to stay in there for 15 minutes, but it is cruel. I swear my leg hairs grow an inch. When I get out I can’t feel anything from my hips down. I must let my body get back to room temperature, before I get into my steamy, hot shower.
My eyes fly open, vision blurry, head aching. I am staring at the ceiling. Why am I lying on the floor? My left hand crosses in front of my eyes on its way to my throbbing temple. Blood.
I lie face down on my bed. The pillow under my head his damp and my head hurts and my face burns from the salt in my tears. Pushing myself up I looked around. There's no disembodied mouths, no terrible humanoid monsters. I'm in my room alone. In my panic I've trashed the place but it's nothing a good clean up can't fix. I feel empty. The catharsis is over and there is nothing left in me but a weak feeling of uneasiness. Manic hallucinations always leave me like this. Sluggish, I kick my way under the blankets and tuck myself in. I'll sleep for a while then clean up.
I woke up in a tiny, unfamiliar bed to the sound of either a gunshot or an engine backfiring. I rolled out of bed onto a cold, artificial feeling floor and squinted as the sun glinted off of the steel bars covering the room’s single window. I put on a fresh set of clothes that someone had hastily folded and dropped on the floor. I took one last look at the window, catching a glimpse of skyscrapers in the distance, and headed out of this new room. Then I stubbed my toe on a stove. The pain immediately cleared the early morning haze in my brain. I definitely wasn't in my own house, I don’t live in a city, have bars over my windows, and my bedroom certainly doesn't open directly into the kitchen.
When my parents told me that they were going out on the lake with friends, I didn’t think too much about it, but when my parents left it was late, so I started to lay down and go to bed, I was happy because I never got left home alone. Then I woke up, it was like 4:00 a.m. So I sneakily went into my parents room to see if they were home but they weren’t home and I got a little concerned. I woke up the next morning excited to see my mom. I was going to the living room and I seen my mom on her rocking chair soaked and I was curious. I seen a little hole the size of a pebble on her knee and her side was bruised.
I’ve had to overcome a lot of struggles, but one I remember is before I knew how to open applesauce jars I would have the hardest time trying to open it. After doing it so many times and I couldn’t get it I just stop trying to open them, until one day I read the instructions and it made something hard look easy. All I had to do was read the top but I never did that I just tried to open it and wondered why everyone else could get it open. I nearly broke a few jars out of frustration just because I couldn’t open it. When I finally opened it I felt dumb because it was so simple.
I decided for my first real day in Sydney, being a pilot, I would take
When considering my options for this event, I knew I had to choose something that involved me personally. While any topics in the sexual realm are newer to me, it is easier for me to separate myself from those experiences and focus on the individual discussing it over discussing it myself. When peers have conversations regarding sex, I am able to listen and even interact. However, if the conversation ever seems to turns towards me, I try to escape in order to avoid participating. My discomfort is the strongest when I think about myself or have to share about myself with others. Previous to this event, I have always considered doing this type of shoot. I never felt comfortable enough, and chose this opportunity almost as an excuse, or permission
I wake up a little earlier than usual. My parents asked me to run a few errands for them. I get dressed and head out the door. “So far, so good.” I think to myself. I get in my car and start driving to the supermarket. I park my car and wait a few minutes. “You can do this.” I tell myself, giving myself the usual pep talk routine. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I get out of my car and start heading in. Almost immediately my heart begins racing. It’s 75 degrees out, but I feel like I’m freezing. I’m sweating and I’m beginning to get dizzy. I’m not even at the door when my legs give out under me and I have to support myself against a stranger’s car. I’m nauseous, I’m sweating and I feel like on the verge of having a heart attack. A few people have seen me and are asking me if I need help, but they’re just making things worse. It takes every ounce of willpower to get up and head back to my car. The rest is all a blur, but I vaguely remember getting in my car and peeling out, almost
The past week has opened my mind up toward interpreting texts and by realizing that there is much to be said about a picture than meets the eye. I observed many kinds of texts throughout the week, books, audio, video, and articles from the newspaper. Over the weekend I had the chance to be at both ends of the text and thought it would be most appropriate to share my experience. The weekend was jam packed full of experiences that changed the way that I look at texts. On Saturday while riding with Delaware County EMS we were dispatched to a wreck on 1000 North outside of Albany, Indiana where a male victim was ejected out of his car and died. The victim was only 31 years old, a tragedy. The male was traveling down the road at a high rate of
I embarked on this adventure November 2nd, 2017. On that day I placed an envelope in the mailbox of the McCollough’s. The envelope contained a letter accompanied with a resume. The letter provided a short introduction of myself, my pursuit of an internship, and contact information. On November 6th I received an email from Dr. McCollough regarding my letter. To my surprise, he was interested in meeting with me. I was invited to meet Dr. McCollough and Mrs. McCollough at their property.
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.