Personal Narrative-Black Water

Every few minutes we see in the news a child being abused or getting hurt, but there is something we are not as cautious about as parents. Parents are often not cautious about their young ones when it comes to preparing hot water with them around. Being a mother of maybe two or three is hard to deal with all at once. Even a simple task as preparing a shower can be dangerous as they stated in “The first thing you hear is a terrible scream” written by Lucy Atkins, a Britain reporter from theguardian newspaper. Atkins wrote about a mother who was preparing the bath for her two young children, two-year old Joseph and three-year old Francesca, when an incident happened in the bedroom and she went to attend it. The mother left the hot water running

It was as if she said it to warn others of the words that I was going to be hearing, warn others of the hurt I was going to be feeling and of the challenge my life would become. She took me outside and put her hands on my shoulders as if she was going to be the one that needed the help to stand up. I looked at her and watched as her tongue said his name. I fell to the ground my knees buckled and my heart sank deeper than it ever had. Almost as if the hurt before this was only digging a hole to the endless tunnel of pain and regret and sadness i would fall into tonight. My hands held my face but not like I wanted him to in that moment. The ground held me above ground when all I wanted to do was sink as deep as I knew he would be buried that week. But i couldn't. I was living. There was a time I did not sleep no matter how hard I tried until that was all i ever did. Music turned the numbness of it all into a sharp pain like a punch in the stomach reminding me of words I never said and words I never meant. Nights were spent screaming at my ceiling at god and at him reliving over and over and over how easy it would have been how much pain he could have saved me...if only he had remembered to buckle his

We climbed for several hours and the climb was slow and demanding. Whenever I was thirsty or tired, I stopped frequently to drink water to take a rest. We were on the northern part of the rim and when I looked into the caldera, I looked across to the other side. Since the view was amazing, it took my breath away. I was filled with awe and

“Ting, tong, tong, tong, ting, tong, tong, tong,” the doctor beat echos through the bitter cold October air in the early hours of a Saturday morning. It’s marching season. Band kids across northern Indiana are hard at work perfecting their show for competition that has yet to come in the afternoon. The past three months have been used to learn and fine tune their show to it 's best. Long hours of hard work, sweat, tears, dedication, time, love, and much more is put into a band program and what comes out of it is a strong group of individuals who have the ability to do great things in life. Lessons that you learn during the course of your marching band career will stay with you for the

                      I always remember that day, when I was three years old. Yes three, all of you would wonder how she could remember this day while she was little kid. Sometimes, I’m also asking myself why my memory was able to graph this event on my mind while the majority of the days of my childhood just flew away. On this day, I walked through a painful experience. I discovered the feeling of losing control of my body. On this day, I had my first surgery, and it was a tonsillectomy.

Trawick-Smith (2014) argues “Modern technology has given rise to a set of standard medical procedures used frequently in hospital births in Western Societies” (pg. 89). One of these standard medical procedures is the caesarian section. The caesarian section is a process where the newborn is removed surgically, an incision is made in the abdomen and the baby is removed from the uterus (Trawick-Smith, 2014, pg. 89). Throughout the years the caesarian section has become increasingly popular. The film argues that hospitals have different motives when it comes to the delivery of newborns. They believe that obstetricians, in some cases, have never seen a natural childbirth and are extremely unprepared to perform one (Lake & Epstein, 2011). They also feel that hospitals are businesses that rely on high turnover, which means they benefit greatly on how fast they can fill and empty their beds (Lake & Epstein, 2011). Caesarian sections increase the probability of having a high turnover rate in hospitals because they shorten the time of

The calm before the storm. Color Commentating is a big part of my high school experience. I unwind with it. I think freely about something I passionate about. I get to be myself behind the headset. I sit take in the game, and explain it to others. I get to take in the moments of when a player hits a big shot to put his team up in a close game, or when a coach calls a crucial time out to rally their team to get back into a game. To see the crowd roar with excitement when a dunk occurs during a fastbreak. When someone crosses someone over then drains a shot. The best of all is when ETHS wins and we talk about how they used man to man defense to stifle New Trier’s three point attack. I love watching momentum shifts as a team goes on an eight to zero run randomly in the middle of the third quarter. I love listening to the play-by-play guy Chris paint the games picture with his words the way Shakespeare did with his plays. I love the way Ms. Brown tells the fans how the screen set by Nojel freed up a shot for Chris who wasn’t involved in the screen.

Boom!! I heard a scream and then I heard ice smashing against the ground. “Ethan? Ethan!! I looked over the corner of the snowbank and saw something I never wished to see “Oh no. Wake up. please wake up. Answer me Ethan”. Answer. but there was no answer.” Help someone help me. Stay with me. Keep breathing, everything will be ok. I promise. I won 't leave you”.

By the time my mother passed away due to melancholia, I started to recall those memories. When she smiling announced her pregnancy, she did not say that her colleagues were edging her out. Her action inconvenience and mental retardation made her dull. Her colleagues seized the opportunity to accuse her for neglect of duty, trying to push the only female actuary out. My mother endured morning sickness to work harder, but mental and physical double whammy led to an abortion. She could not afford the combat and sorrow, descending into depression. My body was paralyzed like it had been just awakened from a deep hibernation. The feeling of loss infiltrated me. What I used to regard as vital and imperative seemed meaningless.

Rayln Acasta was a normal 14 year old teenager from Inglewood. Everyone called her Ray. She didn’t have very many friends. Ray was a very responsible student. She was quiet at times. People would tell her all the time that she needed to talk more. Whenever someone would tell her that, she would say that she doesn’t talk a lot because she has nothing to say. Ray just wanted to be perfect. She didn’t want to disappoint anyone. She always wished she was a leader who was brave, independent, confident and strong just like the girls in action movies.

Recently, I went to a water park in San Jose called Raging Waters. I brought two friends with me, Jenna and Jeffrey. Jenna was a sixth grader with a lot of energy but had a calm voice. Jeffrey, on the other hand, was in high school. He was full of energy and was very talkative.

Around two years ago, when I was just a young swimmer , my coach asked my swimming group what a swim meet was. The reply came back with some confused looks and the rare nod of a head. She then told us what a meet was. I then told my parents about this new type of competition, they signed me up and brought me to a strange place, leading me to where I am now, with legs trembling and about two and a half feet above the ominously still pool on a white platform.

When you 're a kid you would never think of almost dying at sesame place, but that 's exactly what happened to me. As my family and I entered the park, my eyes grew with amazement as I looked around me. There were zooming roller coasters, families laughing, toddlers running around with a sugar high from all the cotton candy they ate, and especially the terrifying, enormous, gray and blue water slide, I looked at the slide with fear and excitement in my eyes. I knew right then and there that I was going to go on that slide no matter the consequences.

Owen did not hesitate, he threw open the back door, slammed it behind him. He perched himself of the backseat on his knees, his hands curled over the headrest and started through the rear window. Through the window, he saw destructions. The star-crusted tentacles flailing in all directions and crushing everything into clouds of dust as it heaved its colossal mass onto the street. It was bigger than anything that he had seen with one exception. The statue of the demon itself which wings scraped the skyline. He took a small amount of comfort that it was only a statue although he would have the occasional nightmare, that it would come to life and a massive hand would reach for him but unlike the Balor which had taken his parents, the hand would consume everything around him, then the Earth and crush it until it merged with the black space abyss.

Smack! Smack! Smack! The little baboon’s father slapped the little one’s butt. The little one squirmed and ran away. His red butt shone through his black fuzzy fur. Every day, the baboon had his butt smacked three times and it hurt a lot.