Personal Narrative: My Mom

448 Words1 Page
bulb-icon

Recommended: Homeschooling on the rise in america

"Mom!" I screech. I rush around my room snatching random things and shoving them into my already over filled packing bag. I scan my room for anything else and see a picture of me and my mom on my 6th birthday. Im Sydney, I'm 14 years old. Ive been homeschooled my whole life, and tommorrow I was going to california to go to a weird kind of school. One where highschool kids live alone in dorms with a supervisor. Ill get to have friends! My mom never let me meet anyone. She wants to keep me from becoming "Like the world" She says. Im a dirty blonde with murky blue eyes. Im 5'3. Pretty short for my age. I heard a light 'tap tap tap' as my mom came up the stairs. She flopped a pillowcase on my bed as I grabbed the picture and put it safely into my packing bag. …show more content…

"Ok, I'll go brush my teeth." I reply. As I walk into the bathroom across the hallway, I remember that I have to tell beetle everything! Beetle is my online friend who I met while playing a game Minecraft. I met him then every once in a while we talked. We had an inside joke where I was a bully, and he was the innocent one. 5 months ago, we got eachothers discord and have talked ever since getting closer and closer. I secretly kinda feel something for him.. Its weird liking someone u dont even know. I rush back into my room and grab my phone off my desk. I click it on and see that he's texted me. My heart skips a beat. *Ugh get over yourself!* I think. "Hey, hows ur day been?" He said. "Good, I'm packing for my flight to my new school." I reply. I sit and wait a while before he replies. "Oh, cool, even tho ur going to this new school, we'll still talk right?"

Show More
Related

  • Cinderella - In The Style of Holden

    1561 Words  | 4 Pages

    Well, if you’re reading this now, you’d probably want to know everything about me, who my parents are, what they’re like, all the stuff about my twin sister and my little stepsister. The truth is that this stuff kinda gets repetitive and dull, besides my father probably wouldn’t want to read a famous book which talks all about his tendencies to smoke and get drunk. He’d probably have a heart attack and all in a place like France, because he ditched us like five years ago. He’s a goddamn moron, ditching my beautiful mother like that, leaving her in such a poor state of mind. He claimed it was because she would do no work and just sit at home all day getting her hair done and all. Actually, she was writing a terrific anthology of short stories called The House of Horrors. The best story in there was called The House of Horrors. It’s where a man buys a house and it’s haunted. The ghosts tell him to find a wife. The man does, she manages to drive the ghosts away and they lived happily ever after. It killed me. It was a nail biting romantic horror story and it showed how mother’s talents went to waste after her nervous breakdown. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s that man. Don’t even mention him to me. Even so, my mother had since found a new husband. He’s so handsome and kind to mother, but his daughter – my stepsister – is so annoying. She walks with her head up all the time, as if she owns the place. And she’s really ugly and all. She has no social skills. But what really makes me sick is that she loves to order Drizella and me around. She makes me want to puke so much.

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: Leslie's Decision

    913 Words  | 2 Pages

    I was born in Montgomery, Alabama in 1935. I was just a day old when my mother and father dropped me off at grandma’s house and never came back. Grandma Rosa said that my father had gambling problems my mother was on and off drugs. Sometimes, grandma said that my mother asked her for money when she was running away from my father because he was abusive. But I wouldn’t know where I would be if my parents would have taken care of me. My parents did not name me so, my grandmother named me after her great grandmother Leslie. The only memory of my mother is her pocket watch that fell out of her purse that day. I’ve been living with my grandmother for ten years. I’m very sure my parents are not coming back. Everyday as soon as I wake up I use the pocket watch. Using it every time I always wonder what it would be like seeing my parent’s faces. My grandmother said to me that everything happens for a reason maybe my parents leaving was for me to live. At school when the kids get out of the schoolhouse they say “don’t step on a crack”. I believe in that ,but it does not apply to me. Just started fifth grade at Frederick Douglas Elementary School. It’s my first year at this school. I can say that it’s a step up from Harriet Tubman Elementary. All the kids in that 4th grade classroom threw crayons and

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: How My Mom Changed My Life

    424 Words  | 1 Pages

    Ever since I was a little girl I always wanted my life to be like the ones in movies, but sadly it was not. Having one parent wasn't easy, but my dad did his best to be a great father. My parents separated when I was 7 years old and that was when my childhood changed. Growing up with no mother was difficult, in fact, I felt left out when I would be around my friends because they had both of their parents and did family things together and I didn't. It was very depressing for me because I felt like I was different from everyone else. I also felt like I couldn't do anything or go far with my future goals because I didn't get much support like others did. I never found it easy, but I’m glad I had a father that stood by my side through thick and

    Read More

  • An Unforgettable Tribute to My Mother

    432 Words  | 1 Pages

    My mom, just like most moms has been with me for my whole life. Her birthday is

    Read More

  • Issues With Being Antisocial

    1143 Words  | 3 Pages

    She’s one of those old souls stuck in the fifty’s and refuses to see the 21st century. She is a good mother, it 's only when it came to me she lacked. I met my mother when I was four. She adopted my little sis and me. Through my younger age I hated her I absolutely hated her and she failed to understand why or explain to me so I could understand whom the lady was that I was staying with. Where my real mother was. She failed to help me see what was going on and with me only being four I thought she kidnapped me and I hated her. As I grew up I learned precisely what was going on and I no longer had a heart for her it dwindled down to more of a dislike. I understood why was with her, but I expended most of my early youth wondering why did this have to happen to me. And why did I have to be with her. My mother wasn’t a bad mother she only lacked the nurturing a love I needed. She held my early years against me and we’ve been stepping on thin ice ever

    Read More

  • How My Mom Changed My Life-Personal Narrative

    830 Words  | 2 Pages

    I dont really know what im doing, seems like i never have. From being in grade school and not knowing why God put me here to being in high school and still wondering the same thing. You said you wanted something interesting, yet not sad, but those two things are like best friends.

    Read More

  • Savannah and Chloe

    2446 Words  | 5 Pages

    This plot continued through elementary school and into the summer before our sixth grade year. Our lives had been relatively simple until that time. School. Choir. Friendship. That was all we had to worry about. That is, until that fateful day when my mother told me that she had met someone. It had always been just her and me. So once Jack came into the picture, life took on a completely different aura. Not only did I acquire a new stepfather, but two stepsisters as well. This sudden multiplication of people created chaos. I began spending more time with my family, getting to know the newest members. Savannah quickly became friends with my step siblings. We all spent time together ...

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: Postpartum Depression

    766 Words  | 2 Pages

           Although I acknowledged the truth my mom had spoken to me when she came to visit, I hadn’t taken certain necessary steps that I needed to take. I remember one day sitting on my living room couch. Poet was sitting beside me. He was talking to the children. I turned my head and began to cry. I could no longer hold back the hurt, fears, disappointments, and anger. The family noticed after a few seconds that I was crying. Poet tried to talk to me but I didn’t respond. He called my mom this same night. I talked to my mom a little but I mainly just listened. The next day Bri had called me. Poet had contacted her and told her what was going on. She contacted me to tell me about a counselor she knew. I took

    Read More

  • Descriptive Nursing House

    1058 Words  | 3 Pages

    I hated going to her house. Every time she passed that fire station and the school right by her house I knew we were going to her house, and I started crying. My mom had to drag me out the van all the time. I would grab on to the seat and my mom would pull me from my wrist and she would always leave me marked as if I was tied with a rough rope. Her home had a unique smell it smelled like artificial flowers, pine corns, and cinnamon like an old lady’s house. She would call me, “la chillona” because I would always be crying when we went over. She was a very sweet lady and was happy all the time and wasn’t sick at all but just seeing her with her wrinkly skin made me not want to be around her. I stayed close to my mom, but try to stay as far as I could from my mom’s aunt I wouldn’t even look her direction. She loved dancing and would always put music, and sometimes she would try to grab me and dance with me. I would run to the empty living room, she only had two small couches and a TV and her artificial flowers, and sit in the corner and look out the big, dirty

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: Overcoming Obstacles That Changed My Life

    545 Words  | 2 Pages

    A few years ago, I lived in Covington, which was a small town in Georgia, and was raised by my mom with 3 other siblings. As I was getting older my mom showed us how to prepare for life and choose the right decisions. At the time I used to hang around a group of friends, which had no positive influences toward me. My mom didn’t realize that I was falling into pure pressure at a quick rate and wasn’t thinking about how that would change my life in the

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative Essay: My First Day Of Life

    1812 Words  | 4 Pages

    She moved us to a small town called Centralia. Before I even moved I had people from this town messaging me on facebook telling me they couldn’t wait to meet me. All I could think was, “how do they know who I am?” My first day of school I felt like an outsider. I had never felt like an outsider before in any school that I had ever been to before. None of these kids were from military families, and most of them had grown up together. They knew every aspect about each other and I didn’t know a single thing about them. They were all very welcoming and within the first few months I had made several great friendships. During the school year I decided to reconnect with my dad. We emailed back and forth quite a bit and I realized that I really did miss him. In January my dad came home and surprised me in front of my entire middle school. It was just like one of those military homecomings that you see on TV. Everyone in the town knew who I was from that point on. Middle school quickly turned into high school where I would soon figure out who I wanted to be in this

    Read More

  • My Family As A Catholic Family

    1304 Words  | 3 Pages

    By this time, she had settled down with my now stepdad, J, and he was everything a father should be. He treated me like his own. My mother was a few months pregnant with my little brother when I moved in. I thought everything was perfect, but that definitely was not true. My mom and I argued every day. She was not doing illegal drugs, instead she was going to the doctor’s office and getting them prescribed to her. She was taking so many pills that had horrible reactions with each other. She took all of her anger out on me; everything I did was wrong. She would scream at the top of her lungs in my face, and I would feel her spit hitting my face. I just cried. It was all I could do. Every time we got into an argument, I would call my grandma crying. I would spend a week at my grandma’s house then go back and try it again. Sadly, it never worked in my favor. I know families do not always get along, but the way she acted towards me was terrible. I always wondered why she never yelled at my brother. He was so lucky; I was glad he did not have to go through what I did, and I hoped he never would have to. Well, our fights got worse. At the age of seventeen, I finally rebelled. I begged her to sign emancipation papers. I was determined I could handle life on my own. The day I asked her to sign the papers she grabbed me by my hair and then began to choke me. I grabbed her arms and pushed them away from my neck. She started punching me so violently and I hit her back; I did not know what else to do. I left her house that day and never went back. I was able to handle life on my own, with a little help from my grandparents. Today, I have my own house, car, an amazing job, and support from my grandparents. I believe I am a good example of a good catholic member, and I do not plan on following my parent’s footsteps. I am grateful my grandparents showed me the right way to behave and helped me get

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative- Bonding Experience with Mom

    733 Words  | 2 Pages

    Summer was coming to an end, the night air grew brisker and the mornings were dew covered. The sun had just started to set behind our home; my father would be home soon. I walked into the kitchen only to be greeted by my mother cooking dinner. She stood there one hand on her hip, her one leg stuck out at her side, knee slightly bent, stirring the pot holding the spoon all the way at the tip of the handle. She looked as pissed off as could be. My mother always felt she could be doing a million other things besides cooking dinner. We sat there talking until I heard a familiar soft rumble in front of our house. The rumble was accompanied by my father fidgeting at the front door. His old noisy Bronco always made his presence known. He plodded down the hallway into the kitchen to greet my mother with a peck on the cheek. After one more quick stir she plopped a hot pad on the table followed by a pan of sliced meatloaf in sauce. The smell of the meat, potatoes, and veggies filled the kitchen instantly and the family gathered around the table. The meal was a typical one in our household, my mother who had a million other things to do that day, including having her own personal time did not feel like cooking a twelve course meal. However, my father who always came home expecting steak did not see the meal as appetizing as the rest of us.

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: My Momma's Song Of Me

    1486 Words  | 3 Pages

    Without the black and the white pixels intermingling on the television screen you would have no picture. You would just have an entirely black or an entirely white screen. That wouldn’t be interesting at all. They need to be together to form the picture, to have meaning. Separated they mean nothing. I wish that people could look at the world like this. Separating the white and the black people doesn’t make sense. At least my Momma thinks that the segregation will end soon and hopefully she’s right.

    Read More

More about Personal Narrative: My Mom

Open Document