Personal Narrative: Life In The War Front

The war had dragged on for longer than anyone could have imagined. Damage on the Western Front. Millions dead. Food rations significantly reduced. Again.

My Personal Roller Coaster If you have ever experienced riding a roller coaster, you probably might know the sensation you get when you’re up the hill and abruptly decay from the hill without even expecting it. Or what about when you believe you’re steady and stable on your roller coaster ride and think the ride might be over soon. Surprisingly, it is when you suddenly downfall once again in the least expected moment. In real life circumstances, in reality; life is a roller coaster.

The battlegrounds of the war were as repulsive as my hands, stained and cracked with dried blood that had turned into a murky brown. The acrid stench of gunpowder burned my nostrils along with the smell of blood. I rubbed my hands in cold water but the filth just wouldn’t go away. It clung to me like ivy, and I wondered if the poison would mar me forever. “Nurse Mabel Earp!

I remember the click of a rifle cartridge being loaded into an AK-47 outside of Chu Lai. That instant I felt an urge to dive for cover. I didn’t even think about it, I just dived over purely by instinct, one that was never taught during training. It just happened in that moment, just as a spray of bullets were fired in our direction.

From the moment I was born I was considered a military brat, I was born in Hawaii at tripler hospital because my mom was in the army and stationed there, my biological father was in the marines. When my mom remarried when I was 7, she married a man who was in the Navy. Everyone thinks being a Military brat just means you know more than other people because you 've been more places and seen more things and you get a lot of stuff you want. This is not true at all. Coming from a military background means you never have stability, you are held to a higher standard than all the other kids, and sometimes it makes you want to be in the military and only focus on that.

To: Veteran I live in pecatonica Illinois a small town that is located near rockford. I am in 8th grade and I am 13. My favorite thing to do is target shooting with my dad I go to competitions and do really good. I was trained by my dad he is a police officer he used to be in the army stationed in korea his job there was to fix and drive tanks for the army and has some funny stories. like one he was spinning on the ice with the tank until the track popped off and he had to fix it on the ice.

Ava I’m Ava a sixteen years old. I live with my parents and my two younger brothers. I recollect arousing one morning; it was the same routine just like any other day. Before my family aroused I decided to go outside for awhile just before sunrise.

A dagger screamed, slicing through the air - or should I say, lack thereof. Time froze and my eyes widened in realization of who the dagger was flying towards. It aimed directly at me. I watched in slow motion as the dagger began to curve in a new direction before identifying it 's new victim. I turned quickly and latched my small hand around his wrist.

Well, I’ll start my story off the day I returned from Afghanistan in July 2013. The moment I stepped off the plane I knew that those longs days and nights in Afghanistan were finally over and I could relax again. Thats exactly what I tried to do for the next month or so but I was still having trouble.

I was born in Fort Polk, Louisiana, an infamous army base, however I cant remember this period much because my family relocated back to Houston before I could walk. So instead of growing up as a typical military kid, I developed the habits of a city kid. As one would expect, coming up in America’s fourth largest city I was a very small fish in the ocean, so my childhood was very competitive and extremely fast paced. With so much happening around from minute to minute I generally didn’t have the pleasure of sitting around to contemplate my reality. Even in school I remember having to constantly compete with my classmates just to receive the least amount of attention.

Growing up in Iraq in the era between the gulf war, Iran war, and Iraq war with the United state was a challenge for me, but it was not harder challenge than all what my parents went through to keep me and my siblings safe and sound. My mother is one of the strongest people that I have came cross in my life. She was and still the best mother, teacher, and my best friend. She graduated from Al Mosul University in Iraq as a Mechanical Engineer. Being a daughter of graduated mother will always push me to complete my education and go even further to earn my master degree too.

A War on Three Fronts A flash of light shines in through my eyelids and burns my cornea. Muffled barrages and blasts sound through the silent ringing that overwhelms my eardrums. My eyes peel open and I turn my sore neck from side to side, as the blinding whiteness of everything presents me with the world in three. As the contrast in my pupils returns and the pestilence in my ears subsides, the Earth shaking sounds of bombs and bullets parade through my chest.

I hunched over my desk, eyes scrutinizing the thorough biology notes, when our house phone rang. Immediately, a machine asked “Would you like to accept Carlos Carrillo’s phone call from the Lancaster County Prison?”. Wide-eyed, I recognized my father’s name, accepted the call and handed the phone to my sister. Already panicked at having the prison call our home, she hung up with a face displaying utter perturbation. “What happened?