"Response to a personal narrative on arranged marriage" Essays and Research Papers

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    It happened all so suddenly that i didn’t even realize what was happening. I was drowning. Don’t ask me why I was or how my friend persuaded me to do it but somehow‚ I was drowning. It was so dark and so vague that it’s hard to remember but somehow i do and I’m going to share that experience with you. It began with a simple text. I was listening to music at the time and all of a sudden i heard the sound of my phone vibrating against the table. I instantly picked it up to read it. It was my friend

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    Birds tweeted‚ waves crashed and the familiar salty smell filled the air around us. As we got closer to the house‚ you could smell the salty water and hear people yelling on the beach. The drive always seemed to take forever but it was all worth it once we pulled in to the long driveway of the house. We stayed in the same house almost every time we went. The beach was in walking distance from the house and there was a small shower outside to wash off any sand you have left on you. There was

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    I remember the day when the aliens arrived. It was a rosey‚ shining morning as I raised from my bed‚ frowning as fatigue’s claws were still wrapped around me. I could feel the bed beckoning to me‚ calling me back into its warm‚ cozy embrace. I ignored it‚ kicked my pillow out of the door’s way‚ and dredged into the hallway. I stumble to the kitchen and smell the heavenly fragrance of coffee. In the kitchen‚ my Mother and Stepfather were busy‚ getting ready to head to work as usual in their bland

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    The amazingly talented author was wonderfully intuitive in his inner workings of the terrific story; the way he magically made me feel as if i was somehow in the wonderful story. I understand how the people were affected when their religion was taken away; I can imagine the pain in not being able to practice my religion. That would be a huge mental thing for me as I’m sure it was for them. Religion is something that helped them through their everyday life I would hate to have that taken away from

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    Personal Narrative: Jenna

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    Jenna is a talented‚ resilient‚ and determined individual. In the time that I have known her‚ as her school counselor‚ I have observed her academic and musical talent. From the start of her high school career‚ Jenna gave priority status to her academics‚ but additionally was involved in the school community. She is a young woman who entered high school with great potential‚ and continued to reach and grow throughout her high school career. Due to medical reasons‚ Jenna experienced a setback during

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    I was sitting in the back of my friend’s new Jeep‚ brainstorming an apology with her brother since we were late for our pre-concert rehearsal in Chicago. We were cruising down the road‚ a bit over the speed limit‚ when my friend‚ Janet‚ suddenly shouted nervously that we were passing through an under-resourced part of town. The Jeep rolled to a halt at the stoplight and a homeless woman stood by the curb‚ holding a cardboard sign with “Homeless‚ anything helps” scratched into it. Seeing that we

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    Asylum-Personal Narrative

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    Asylum (Dotted lines act like changes in perspective) Tyler sat in the car waiting‚ he was anticipating everything to go wrong at any given moment‚ that always happened. We will probably hit a moose or something‚ he thought as Tyler‚ and his dad were driving through the British Columbia rockies‚ driving to where they would eventually set up camp‚ in a forested area. Two of his friends were going to meet him there‚ as long as everything went according to plan‚ which it seemed to never do. But after

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    Personal Narrative: Italy

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    It was a hot humid day in Naples‚ Italy on October 28th 1922‚ the sun beating down on the dark olive skin of the Castansa family as they rush through side alley’s and dodge vehicles in the street‚ racing against the clock‚ and trying not to lose one another‚ just to meet a small white boat‚ hidden in a cove on the Tyrrhenian harbor. Out of breath‚ with dark hair windblown and out of line‚ the Castansa family steps foot onto the boat‚ where many more families sit and lay. They watch from a far distance

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    In the Shandows In a worn in leather passenger seat I was looking through the rolled down window. A warm summer breeze was entering the beat up green ford truck. The radio was softly playing “Blue Moon “by Elvis. Outside it was early evening and the sun was setting a lovely color of oranges and reds‚ it was a blissful day in along the seaside of North Carolina. In my lap was my partner in crime‚ little Bowie. The small Scottish terrier was sprawled out and looked like he was in a deep beauty sleep

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    1. The guards carried the prisoner to the dungeon‚ and threw him in his cell. He sits there groaning in pain‚ looking around. It’s a basic cell; concrete floors‚ walls‚ and ceiling. Its cold‚ and hard‚ with a light layer of dust covering the entirety of everything. There was a torch on the wall on the other side of the bars‚ creating a dim glow‚ and casting a shadow of lines on the floor. In the distance‚ you can hear the wails and cries of the other people in this dark place. He didn’t

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