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    Looking for Home Her name is Orelia Marie Degraffenaried‚ she is my grandmother. I called her Ms. Pat. I honestly don’t know where “Pat” came from. I remember hearing someone call her Patricia and ever since then I’ve called her Ms. Pat. I love everything about my grandmother‚ moreover‚ she’s my favorite person in the whole world. When I found out she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s‚ my heart broke into a million pieces. It all started after my aunt’s death. My aunt was handicapped and my grandmother

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    Rock Narrative Essay

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    Now I am going to tell you have how I became friends with Bobby the rock. It all started one not so sunny day‚ when I went to youth group. My grandma picked Abby and me up‚ and took us to youth group. We waited for everyone to show up‚ then we sat around and talked like a bunch of hyenas. Then my uncle (youth pastor) told us which car or van to go in‚we drove to the foam pit place‚ and talked about some random stuff.We were going to some place with a pit filled with foam cubes. When we got there

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    Personal Narrative Essay

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    Throughout my entire life I would have never imagined ever having to deal with the loss of someone so close to me. My worse fear was something devastating happening and me not being able to deal with it. I always assumed‚ which is kind of crazy that my family members were immortal and would live forever‚ however on this particular day in January my life came to a screeching halt and I was changed forever. It all started a few months ago when my granny begin to get sick. She went from being totally

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    The day I was looking forward to had finally arrived: Basketball tryouts. I wasn’t the most talented‚ but I knew I could contribute to the team as a defensive stopper‚ using my size to my advantage. While the rest of the fellow middle schoolers struggled to hit layups and dribble the ball‚ I showed slightly more skill than everyone else. I made the B team that year as the team captain and leader. We didn’t win a game all season long‚ but that didn’t stop my love of the game; in fact‚ that is when

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    Tremors: Narrative Essay

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    “Tremors” - Barakah Moti MYP4 Midnight‚ 14 June 2012. I was awake in my bed‚ excited or maybe depressed. I did not know. The night seemed weird‚ because it was much darker than before and I heard the owls hoot louder. They seemed hungry. Hungry for meat and for love. Every time I closed my eyes‚ I would see a thin light pass by and I opened it at my highest to identify what it was. I missed it each time. What was it? When sunrise grew closer‚ I heard weird thuds that pierced my ear deeply. What

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    Narrative Essay on Fears

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    The Guiding Wind My vision was blurry‚ smudging my surroundings into a blob of color. Something was slamming into the wall of my chest as if it was trying to break free. I put my hand over my heart and felt each strong pulsation quicken. I knew I had to concentrate and use all of my will power to take another step forward. I had to keep telling myself not to look down‚ but how? How could I not look down if I needed to see where to put my foot? Tension started to build in my muscles making every

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    Growing up in a middle-class family of four in the suburbs of Ohio‚ I consider myself to be blessed. Blessed with stable‚ loving parents‚ a roof over my head‚ and an education‚ I was practically handed all I needed to succeed in life. However‚ it was revealed to me that not everyone had been granted such privileges and opportunities to thrive. Although I was aware of the reality of homelessness in the community‚ it was not until my freshman year of high school at Archbishop Hoban that I was able

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    Narrative Essay On Hockey

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    “Good Luck ‚ David” said my mom and my sister. It was finally the day that I was going to tryout to make the “A” team of the NJ Avalanche. I worked as hard as an ant all year‚ I took hockey lessons before school‚ and afterschool‚ till 11 o’clock.. I started hockey because of my friend‚ which he introduced me to hockey‚ which then I was interested in playing hockey. Today‚ I have to go to the Ice House to attend the tryout at 7 o’clock.. I knew I could do it‚ but on the other hand‚ I was thinking

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    My right index finger hesitantly lingered above C‚ awaiting the decisive soft click as I pressed down onto the key. Never had my movements felt so deliberately precise. Slowly easing onto the familiar white smoothness of A‚ my left finger found its place just a bit down the keyboard. I knew that each and every stroke of my hands of my performance matters today. And yet‚ I smiled‚ letting my hands dance all over‚ presenting a symphony of sound as the ideas inside my head came to life. The music to

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    When I was five‚ I met a man that would change my life forever. The first time I saw him‚ he was laying tile at our house which at the time was under construction. I watched as he very eloquently laid mortar and tile in a way that I had never seen before. Soon he sat down with my dad and I and asked us if we would like to come down to his cabin with him and go fishing. I jumped at the opportunity and in two weeks we were driving from Austin to Corpus Christi. I did not know it then‚ but this man

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