Sherice Gayden September 25‚ 2012 UNIV 112- Personal Narrative Never a Place to Call Home After walking into Piccadilly’s‚ we were seated in the center booth against the wall where you had a view of the whole room. We were each given plates and access to the buffet after giving our drink orders. After we all sit down and are waiting we are approached by a lady and her two sons; she turns to my grandfather and says hello. This is not a unfamiliar happening to me‚ having random people come up
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Shameeka Herring 10 February 2013 Personal Narrative Essay A Frightening Experience When I look at pictures of myself ‚ I realize how much I’ve grown and changed‚ not only physically‚ also mentally as a person in the last fifteen years. Less then one year after graduating high school ‚I received some frightening news‚ I was pregnant. I had dreams and so much potential‚ this would surely detour me from my goal in life of
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“Enthusiast” loves a specific subject. “Car enthusiast” is one that is always talking about cars‚ racing cars‚ seeing cars‚ and dreaming about cars. Although‚ being a car enthusiast can lead to problems‚ especially when you and your best friend get new “whips.” Most people refer to their cars as whip. With the money I received from the insurance from
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Personal Narrative Yet another Thanksgiving‚ and I was stuck in my uncle’s basement watching the Redskins face off the Dallas Cowboys. Michael Jordan‚ Serena Williams‚ and various other famous athletes all grinned at me from their respective Wheaties boxes‚ seemingly mocking my pain. My uncle collected them and‚ for some reason‚ had decided the bright orange boxes would be a great decorative addition to the basement wall behind the television. I remember once‚ when I was younger‚ I was searching
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I still remember that phone call. I can still hear our old landline tumbling to the hardwood floor after slipping out of my mother’s hands. The voice was muffled‚ somber‚ but I could still make out a few of the words. It wasn’t until my mom turned to me and I realized that her face had gone white‚ that I understood what was happening. I remember that day‚ too. I woke up late because I had spent almost the entire night trying to finish my essay. The “Mira! It’s so late. Come out of your room!” My
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vehicle‚ I thought bitterly‚ as I yanked my frozen car door open. The inside was clearly much worse than I had hoped‚ with my breath billowing out in the clouds. It felt more like sitting in a freezer than a vehicle‚ which would make me a piece of meat‚ ready to be thawed out‚ seasoned‚ and slow-cooked. Man‚ now I am cold and hungry. Through the translucent windshield‚ Monty’s truck was only a murky blob as he returned and drove away. I turned the car on and cranked the heat up to high‚ waiting for
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Hector Amezcua Ekins Writing 0990 05 Mar 2013 Personal Narrative Starting from a place I remembered as a teen‚ moving from a place that was warm to a place that had all four seasons; such as winter‚ spring‚ summer and fall. The First place that I grew up was surrounded by mountains. During the winter it was full of white snow‚ something that I was never used to seeing coming from California where all one would see was sandy beaches and the waves clasping one another. As I remember being
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as the squad car got closer‚ so Shy and I moved to the back of Aunt Libb’s car in my apartment parking lot so we could be “nosey neighbors” and see what all the commotion was about. A little red car came speeding along and stopped directly in our range while at the four-way stop at the corner of my block when the passenger hopped out the car and took off running towards the right. Seconds later the squad car stops behind the car and the cops (both driver and passenger) hop out the car and begin to
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“ZZZZZZ” We chuckled as we heard Ava’s little sister snoring in the back of the car on the way to Holiday World. We sat impatiently in the backseat as we listened to Drake through the airpods. We could see the roller coasters slowly coming into view. As the car came to a slow stop‚ we excitedly jumped out of the car. We skipped through the parking lot as Ava’s dad yelled at us to slow down. We lowered our speed just a little bit so everyone else could catch up. We waited in line for what seemed like
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During my fourth birthday party‚ I was run over by a car. But the car was a Barbie jeep‚ driven by a five-year-old. Taylor‚ the girl who hit me‚ apologized vehemently. Her mother demanded to know why she hit me. Her response was simple- she didn’t see me over the hood of the car. That event was a precursor to the rest of my childhood. My teachers would call me cute‚ my aunts would pinch my cheeks‚ and my older sister used my shoulders as an arm rest. Everyone saw me as a height instead of a person
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