Personal Narrative-Mahli, Open Up !
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The thundering sound of my dads fist banging on my bedroom door. I'm cuddled up in my blanket hoping it will protect me from the sound, from the pain, and my dad. What did I do wrong? Why am I here? All I hear is "MAHLI, OPEN UP!". I know what my dad is going to do to me, I know he's gonna hurt me, and I know I won't be able to take it. The sound finally stops. I want to peek out to see if he's gone for another drink, but I'm to scared. My mind is every where..I want to be gone. Get away from every thing and every one. I want to go to a place where no one knows my name. It'll be easier. No more tears, no more hate, and no more pain. No one knows me, well.. they know the Mahli that wears black jackets, black jeans, and has scars on her arms. …show more content…
My thoughts get interrupted by my Dads heavy footsteps walking across the hallway floor..Thank God he didn't start banging on my bed room door again. I probably would of called out to my "Mom" but she's probably out dancing her little butt off for guys she doesn't even know. My parents never used to be like this, until the bills started getting higher and until those men started coming over every night. I mean, I can't change them. I can only change myself.. but that's so hard when all you ever hear is "Mahli, you're not good enough" or "Mahli, you're worthless". The only person I can depend on is the person looking back at me in the
Chuck E. Cheese Monologue
612 Words | 3 PagesAs I lay in bed, I can see the time on my stove. 1:30 a.m. Just another sleepless night. What 's been keeping me up at night? Maybe it 's the shrieks of my mother 's petrified voice that still echoes through my head?
Personal Narrative: A Modest Proposal
86 Words | 1 PagesI have been doing some thinking about our conversation a few days ago and have concluded that I will take you up on the offer! I just sold my old bike and now have some money left over that I can use to pay for those seminars. I am going to see how soon I can get this done, I am going to look at the dates and send my form in. I will keep you posted on the status of things as they get processed.
Personal Narrative: The Door By Alisyn Zigelstein
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Personal Narrative-A Modest Proposals
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Response To Toni Morrison's Beloved
708 Words | 3 PagesI can’t lie and say that I believe I’m enough right now. I may know it in my head, but it’s not something I feel yet, and I'm not sure that gaining that further sense is something I can do on my own. What I have learned from my experience though is that I can never expect myself to succeed in being someone else. I was tasked with this, the impossible, and my inability to do so made me hate myself, but I'm choosing now to reject that, and I would encourage anyone else to do the same. I'm starting over, and while it's overwhelming to know that this could just happen to me again, I have a new mantra to guide me along the way.
Personal Narrative: A Way Gone
542 Words | 3 PagesI used to be so oblivious. I would attend school every day and criticize my surroundings, little did I know how much I actually had. Come junior year, I observed a flyer for a club called S.A.L.T. (Student-Athlete Leadership Team), it seemed interesting to me so I decided to fill out an application. During our first meeting at 6:45 in the morning, Coach Jones, the head of the club, explained, “I did not cut anyone since you will cut yourself, you will give up and you will not want to put the work in, so you will stop coming.
Gwen Harwood Monologue
440 Words | 2 PagesThe door creaks open, I see them, two men… they look so tasty. They’re picking me up and dragging me down the hall. We finally stop, I hear another door open, I look up and the only thing in the room is a table tilted at a seventy-five degree angle. They are pinning me against the table, please speak up, you’re never this quiet.
Story About Moving Away
748 Words | 3 Pages. I just want to sleep and wake up in the morning and pretend this never happened—that we didn’t have a fight, that the kids didn’t hear what we said to each other, that we don’t have several days of awkward suppers and silent evenings ahead, while the children sleep and we take turns drifting out of whichever room the other one is in. A siren is getting closer and then another. More footsteps are running, running, pounding, pounding.
Personal Narrative: To Kill A Black Girl
410 Words | 2 Pagesand I will kill you. Seeing what he did that night, he really would find me and kill me if I told someone what really happened. I’ve been deathly afraid of him or anyone who knocks on my bedroom door. But someone has to know. I can’t live like this forever.
Amanda's V: A Narrative Fiction
1271 Words | 6 PagesI pumped my legs harder as the weight in my muscles settled to my feet. Seeing the door I didn’t even slow my pace. I smashed into it, shoulder first, and it gave but didn’t break. The pain in my shoulder was unbearable at this point. I screamed.
Personal Narrative: My First Words
816 Words | 4 Pages“Èchale ganas mija, estudia, para que seas alguien en la vida,” would say my parents since an early age. These words have marked me; given me the reminder that I must keep giving it my all for a formal higher education. Now, you might be wondering what do those words mean? Well, to my translation, they mean “give it your all honey, study, so that you can be a somebody in this world.” Of course, maybe some parents say similar things to their kids, but to me it’s on a whole other level.
Summary Of Chapter 6: Me, Emma And The Wicked Witch?
2548 Words | 11 Pages"Do you hear that?" "No," I replied, standing quite still and listening. " Hear what?" "Those uh, uh ... screams and cries for help.
Personal Narrative: Out Place
477 Words | 2 PagesMy whole life I have felt out of place; I did not fit in with the “crowd”. Most times, I was the lonely girl that sat by herself in the cafeteria, the last one picked in gym class for sports and the one to be by herself when working with others in class. I was born in Colombia; I lived there for 9 years. My dad lived in New York, and wanted my mother and I to move there with him, because of the better opportunities for me. When we finally moved, I started 6th grade and I was only 9 years old because I skipped a grade.
Personal Narrative: My Personal Statements
664 Words | 3 PagesWhile every single word in this personal statement is true, I would have been naive if I had asserted the following statement even a few years ago; maturity, experience, and deep-seated introspection allow me to say with confidence that I now fully understand and appreciate the significance of being given the opportunity to attend law school. As what should be every other applicant, I have faith in my ability to succeed throughout my education and legal career thereafter. What experiences, characteristics, and abilities demonstrate why I am a more desirable candidate as opposed to, for example, someone with a somewhat similar occupational background, grade point average, and score on the law school admission test? “I mean this lovingly, but I’ve never really worried about you… I always knew you were going to be all right.” These are a few of the words my mother said to me at some point during 2013, the year she passed away at the age of fifty very early in the morning December 26th.
A Short Narrative Fiction
769 Words | 4 PagesI threw open the door and ran into the embrace of my father. We hugged for a while, then I called Mother in and she embraced father too. ¨So, why are you home so early, not to be sad that your home though.¨, I
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