Personal Narrative: Alive

I along with my family moved to Canada in 2004, this was the biggest and happiest day of my life. I had great expectations for my future; since living in Pakistan, I understood that Canada was a land of opportunity. Unfortunately, due to the earthquake in Pakistan on October 8th , 2005, we had to move back to Pakistan since we had lost members of our family as well. The move back to Pakistan at that devastating time was very hard for myself and my family. My father enrolled me to a school in Pakistan since we were going to live there now. The school system in Pakistan just did not seem right anymore, I missed my school in Canada which I had attended for just a year. I struggled to live in Pakistan for three years and in 2008, my mother decided

I don’t recall having a hard time learning how to read. It was one of those things that just came easily to me for some reason. For the most part I enjoyed reading as well. The only time I didn’t enjoy reading was when I didn’t understand a certain word or a certain phrase. One of the strongest memories I have from learning to read was when I was unable to pronounce the word “the”.

It was a taciturn gloomy morning, the year of 1862. The 12th of September. At the end of it, I might be with my family again or buried someplace underground. It was my time to go into battle as soon as I finish saying goodbye to my loved ones. The tears slid down my wife’s face and my daughters lingered into their mother’s arms to cover their dripping faces. I gave everyone one last family hug as my wife said to me “Be careful”.

I was raised with Christian values in mind, and attended a Methodist school. I was raised in the Christian faith yet I find myself, as with some of my friends who were raised in the same conditions, we seem to be growing farther away from our upbringing as we age. I find myself simply not understanding as time goes by, a complete polar opposite from the song ‘Farther Along’. One of my hopes in attending PBA is to try and find answers and a reason to try and reconnect myself. I believe PBA, from what I’ve read, has a very friendly understanding environment. One where you sit down and go into depths about faith, instead of blindly following it because it was your parent’s

I stared into the dark sky, taking a deep breath. “Tonight...tonight.” I breathed out loud. This past week i’ve felt jittery inside my stomach, holding back the smile i’ve wanted to show. Tomorrow was the day it all happened. I held my legs to my chest and thought about all the good things that could happen.

It was a cold winter day a few days after my birthday. We were packing stuff into brown boxes and Doritos boxes and some direct t.v boxes because we were moving. I was packing tons of toys in boxes. I was packing stuff in garbage bags and boxes to put in a garage sale.

I rolled Devon in his wheelchair down to the parking lot to show him my new ride. The hospital always insisted on us using the wheelchair and was very strict about Devon getting up out of it when he was not in his room or in physical therapy. “Your mom got you this? Oh my goodness, it’s beautiful. How’s the sound system?” said Devon “totally bumping’.” I turned the key and cranked a beat that rocked the whole parking lot. Devon started to groove, nodding his head in time. “This machine is off the hook.” I lowered the stereo. “Amanda Hardison told me today that the student council voted unanimously to cancel the senior prom.” “What? That girl abuses her power.” “And then the plan is to combine graduation and prom into one event. They’re hoping it will give you extra time to be there.” Devon paused.

I remember when I was a little girl and my Dad had just gotten remarried, my step-mom told me as we walked up to the entrance of Walmart she said that I could now call her ‘mom’.At the time I was six and I really didn’t understand what was going on and I went along with it being the people-pleaser I am. I just remember thinking this is wierd I already have a mom. I grew up hating my step-mother and ended up just calling her Mrs.Jenniffer. Mrs. Jenniffer has two daughters Ashley and Lexi. They were both mean to me, one time when I was 7 or 8 I don’t remember what I did probably just ‘had an attitude’ but Ashley said go to the corner, a common punishment, apparently my nose wasn't in the corner and she didn’t say anything she just sat on my head

It was a nice hot summer day in Denver, Colorado. Was on my way to my friend Lula’s house, haven’t seen her in a few years. We went to elementary school together and we were in student council together. I slowly got out of the leather seat in my mom's white car. “Bye mom, I love you. See you mañana.” I wave as she waves back. I close the door behind me and as she drives away.

I couldn’t wait to tell my friends about my new craving for books! We were starting school in a week. I decided that I needed some answers. I was laying in bed when I had a great idea. I sneak outside and head to the cemetery. Walking up to the giant ink bottle, I notice the door was cracked open a little bit. I open it and walk through. I see my friend Jack lying on the floor with a bite mark on his neck. I knew I had to keep quiet, or the vampire will come after me. So, I run back home as fast as I could.

"The Starter" annouced that it was a two command start. This meant, he waas going to say, "Ready?" adn then fire the gun. Quicker than I expected, he assumed we were all ready and did his two command start. We were off. Everyone shot off like lightning. Coming around the corner I saw Sam shoot by me. I kept up my pace and fianlly it to my biggest obstacle, "The Hill."

In my lifetime, I haven’t had the best of luck when it comes to injuries. For example I’ve been burnt a few times, had many cuts and bruises, even had my head split open but one injury that always sticks in my mind is when I almost broke my jaw.

It was a nice sunny day, birds chirping, warm breeze in the air with the fragrance of flowers mixed with fresh cut grass. Out in the county of England.A family of two, a father and a daughter. It was the first week of school for teenage Zoe Jackson. She just turned thirteen, and beginning a new year in a new school. She enmity school because today is a Monday, having to wear a boring uniform everyday, and she expects there be a bunch of bullies in the school because her father is a “nerd.” But Zoe doesn't bother telling her father, Fred, because she knows her father is stressed out being an environmentalist. Having to travel a lot for the business he is working for.

The night settles in, crisp air wafts through my curtains and sting my lungs as I shallowly breathe in. The couch was lumpy as usual, and the blanket was barely thick enough to protect my skin from the soft rippling breeze. Autumn weather, being my favorite, always reminded me of when I was younger. Autumn meant my mother would want to dress me in puffy dresses and big floppy bows that bounced as I trotted along. Leaves crunching under my small shoes that were buckled all neatly. The cold would wrap itself around me and cause me to get sniffles that the nanny would cure with soup and a warm rag for my cold head.

It was an early Saturday morning when me and my siblings went with our church to Emerald Point. I was so excited that day to test the skills I learned from swimming lessons. This was going to be one of the funnest days of my life. After weeks of practice i thought for sure i was ready to endure on this adventure. Ten o'clock arrived I hopped of the bus enthusiastic and ran to changing rooms to jump into my bathing suit. The only thing I wanted to do was get into the wave pool, the best water attraction at that park. So excited I jumped into the pool without thinking about consequences and listening to the rules the church gave us. About 15 minutes in I decide to go closer to the waves. One wave came right over me, I thought, "not so bad I thought