that feels the same way. There was no banter between family members‚ were not talking about the usual every day life‚ instead there was live coverage of big events happening in downtown Manhattan. Though I was not fully wake‚ I tried to focus in on the T.V.‚ I saw fire and smoke flowing from the World Trade Center‚ where there used to be two towers there was only one. As I watched‚ the news anchors spoke about how the missing tower had just collapsed‚ that woke me up; the news was immense. I
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“You are as dumb as a doorknob”‚ “You will never be smart.” These are just a couple of the harsh phrases I was told during my childhood. Along with the mental abuse‚ there was also physical abuse. My dad was never around when I was younger because he was always traveling for work‚ or he didn’t come home until late at night. My mom was verbally and physically abusive during the day‚ then when my dad came home‚ my mom would tell him made up stuff that happened during the day. This would result in a
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the brush and begin my daily ritual. As I brush my hair I glimpse through the mirror and focus on my sister. She has returned to her bed and lies in her mismatched pajamas under the blanket doing who knows what on her tablet after she has complained about me not being prepared for school yet.
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able to move to the land of opportunity. We started from zero‚ there was absolutely no money in our pockets. I was a new student at a new school in a foreign country. I could not be more self-conscious at any other time in my life. All I could think about was how others saw me and how I fit in with
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most about attending American Canyon High was the spirit the school had when it came to school rallies and planning class activities. During their spirit weeks‚ the school would play music during lunch and it was amazing seeing everyone get together and just dance. It brought everyone together and made the school seem very close. Furthermore‚ during my senior year‚ part of my senior class got the opportunity to attend the grad night event which took place in Napa. I was extremely excited about attending
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Narrative Essay Draft Compose a rough draft of an essay on the topic of returning to school. Next week‚ you will study specific techniques for narrative writing. You may read ahead if you wish. However‚ this week you are only required to practice the strategies in Chapters 3 and 4 of your text Essentials of College Writing. Based on your readings‚ choose a topic and develop a focus for your essay. Follow the “Structure of the Paper” section in Chapter 3 and the steps of the writing process in
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making their appearance known‚ and I did relatively well‚ though wasn’t totally on my game that day. The next morning‚ I decided to get some extra practice in‚ and knew the waves would still be decent form the previous day. I wasn’t the only one‚ as about a dozen other surfers were already beach side when I showed up around six in the morning. We all paddled out‚ a couple locals
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My sophomore year was a great year for me as far as school goes. It was a year filled with many surprises and mysteries. It was my second year returning to Charles F. Brush High School and as I walked into the first day of school I wondered how my day would transpire. I was ecstatic to be immediately greeted by one of my friends that I met during my freshman year. It wasn’t so much that it was him that made me ecstatic‚ it was more of him being a familiar face and me being reassured. His name was
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I was so excited that grandpa was finally taking me fishing. Ever since I saw the monster of a fish in his basement‚ I dreamt that one day we would catch a shark together. Friday night grandpa called me. I sat in the chair with the phone held to my face. I smile stretched from cheek to cheek when he said we were going to go fishing. That night I was hardly able to sleep. The anticipation of this momentous occasion filled my mind with dreams of the fish that I would see swimming in the crystal clear
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For months‚ my parents had been discussing sending my mom‚ little brother and I back to our native country. I was only eight years old then and I did not understand the reason or the quickness to return. On that day‚ August 23rd‚2008‚ we departed to Guatemala‚ leaving behind my father‚ alone. As I landed at the airport‚ I anticipated the feeling of seeing my older sister and other relatives for the first time. Weeks passed by‚ my brother and I wouldn’t stop asking my mother when we would come back
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