Personal Narrative-Black Girl

I bolted through the doors. A familiar cloud of golden hair stood encircled by a ring of shattered glass, cerulean irises pulsing with masked tension. My eyes quickly caught the hole in the window above the liquor counter and the misshapen rock resting beneath the bar stools. I didn’t look at Mr. Thurman, who was lying motionless behind a table.

I am an African American female. My whole life I’ve been told this and let this one fact become my identity; but this may not be the best way to approach my race, and who I am as a person. As a child, the media and the people around me acted as if my race described my likes/dislikes, my level of intelligence, or even who I am as a person. This idea society has of African Americans is wrong for a majority of reasons, and I challenged it a long time ago. I know the idea is flawed because I have displayed and/or have seen the complete opposite of these stereotypes displayed in those around me. Even though being African American is an amazing culture I am proud to be apart of, it does not have the authority to define who

I remember it being cold. Numbing. Something wet seeping into the backside of my red South Carolina sweatshirt. The faint scent of smoke filling my nostrils, bring a burning sensation to my eyes. I laid under a full crescent moon, my eyes refusing to stay open, my sight dimming. The once starry night now resembled a cluster of tiny white smudges engulfed by a grim lifeless mass. Just as my eyes were fully shut, I heard a distant yell, followed by a woman 's piercing shriek. My last thought, “What is happening to me.”

While I sat alone in my room, my parents were cooking our family dinner. Each year my mom and dad prepared a huge feast for the night. It wasn't Thanksgiving, it was not holiday, it was purge night. A purge is where there is 12 hours with no laws and with no limitations to what you choose to do. I took my medication with a glass of chilled milk, and went into the kitchen. As I walked into the dinning room I noticed my mother and father crouched on the floor telling me to lock my door and hide in my closet. After the night of my parents death during the purge, I have never been the same. And where I am today, you might ask? I am currently sitting in the Rabidus Insane Asylum in Maplewood,

After we said our goodbyes, I left Sam and Carolyn at the restaurant and went back to Efren’s Livery. Hey there; Big Jake I called. He came bounding around the corner wagging that stump of a tail. Boy did you miss me, I asked? Of course he did; Efren said coming up behind. He lies by the door and keeps watch for you. I’m still gonna get me one of them Boomyehs or Boomerneighs or whatever you call them. I laughed out loud and Big Jake started barking at both of us. It’s Bouvier I corrected.

I cringe at the smell of alcohol floating around the apartment. A cold shiver simmers down my spine as I hear footsteps making their way to my room. 3 loud, hard knocks bang on the door. I open the door waiting for it. Waiting for the rock solid slap that pierces my face everyday leaving bruises and black eyes the size of tennis balls. I wait for the punches that feel like hammers wrecking my body over and over again.I open the door and he slaps me. “Get me my steak you peasant! And don’t forget to my clean my room!” He yells at the top of his lungs. As the dark, warm, blood flows down my washed out face I heat up the leftover steak. I reached to grabbed a plate I accidentally knocked down 2 other plates that fell to the floor and shattered.

Personal experience, especially when it's something you cannot explain into words, motivates you to make a change and change someone's belief in an idea for the better. In Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave Douglass changed the readers' belief in the idea that "all men

" Another child 's body has been discovered this morning, as investigators still search for William Sutch." The television talks as Joni pulls the towel off her head from her routine morning shower, a kiss apron her cheek as her husband Mathew rolls out of bed. "Good morning, did you hear they found another little girls body?" Joni asked. "How many have they found, four in the past six months? Crazy how they have not had any trace of him, it seems he is invisible." She states.

Ever since five years ago a dark pathway opened on February 29th. Weirdly I was born on the day of the event so in a way I think is attached to me, but I haven’t seen the place yet so everyone thinks I’m normal, but lately the tests at the lab are getting harder and school’s bullies are getting really rough and I have been under a lot of stress lately.

As I went up to John Shine I said "If he dares to shoot, give him a solid volley, boys". He looked around. And he gave me the box of goods, and I knew that when I left he would realize that the “rifle” men were just sticks. And the second I left, I knew that I would have a price on my head.

It was a busy afternoon and the sound of horses stomping and people shouting rang through my ears. Then came the heavy footsteps of Father entering the house. We were a middle class family that lived in a single story house. Our house was small and we had a little farm to raise animals. My brother John and I were silent in the dusty parlor waiting to hear his cheerful voice echo throughout the house. But none came. There was whispering.

Sat in my room looking at the wall waiting for my best friend Lue to come over, all of a sudden I hear a knock on the old rusty wooden door. I race out of my room, down the wooden squeaky stairs. I open up the door and hug my best friend Lue. My dog Charlie races to the door and rans around Lue. He is happy to see Lue. Lue is excited to see Charlie too. We sat together, and talk for a while. We hear my dad come in the door. He walks

The small town that I am from in North Carolina is predominantly white. And when I say predominantly white, I mean near ninety percent (NorthCarolina.com. N.p., n.d. Web). While growing up, it was common to be referred to as “that black girl.” It did not take a toll on my self-esteem until I started becoming aware of the negative connotation people were using in order to label me. But to those people, I was Black because I was simply not white. However, when I was compared to other black people from different schools, I was not Black. If I received a dollar for every time someone told me I was a White girl trapped inside of a Black girl body, I would be sitting on bills today. At first I would go along with it because I was afraid to engage

The cacophonic cry of the shrieking bell alerted me to sneak forward. Silently, I strolled through the narrow hallway; taking care not to rouse anyone in their vivid dreams. I felt like an elusive rat, manoeuvring sleekly past obstacles to reach the end. The end – where I would find a succulent, luscious delight. Cheese. But this piece of cheese wouldn’t just temporarily satisfy my tastebuds. It would everlastingly arouse them, leaving a distinct, heavenly aftertaste that would remain there for the rest of my life. From here on I knew; the aroma of Duncan’s demise was nearby.

I wake to sunlight streaming through the window. It is far too bright. Why is it so bright? Where am I? My limbs feel heavy, but are starting to come back to life, as though they had died and somehow came back. Hesitantly, I sat up and looked around. Books