Personal Narrative: My Gun

1043 Words5 Pages
The gun goes off…frantic memories run through my mind at an accelerated pace. My adrenaline fumes through my body as I take off. Why Am I here? Life seems to always put us in situations of distraught and disarray, a mixed bag of emotions. This all started a few days back, I was young at the time, not extremely young but young enough to a point that everything was fun. Me and my friend Patrick had been so tired from all the training from track practice and were absolutely stoked for our next track meet.Everything had been great until I got some devastating news from my parents. It was that day, that day I was sadly informed that I would not be able to make it to my esteemed track meet due to a business trip my parents were attending. My parents…show more content…
The next morning we stretched and got on to the field, we walked in amazement on how many different types of people there were and how big the track actually felt. Well, I ran and did not fare too well…considering the fact that my parents were not there to cheer me on when I need it most. I figured my day was over and the only thing that was left was going home with not just a loss but guilt too. Little did I know that the day was not over yet. In order to stay on the field I needed to be running in an event, and a spot had just opened. Excited with the biggest smile on my face, I knew that fate had given me another chance to run this race right. I decided to pick up my phone and call my parents. Of course, I got scolded for about five minutes but it was all worth it. Turns out, my parents were on there way back and luckily my track meet had been on that road to home. To make it all better, my event had been one of the last so it gave plenty of time for my parents to…show more content…
As I sat there, I saw my parents from a distance smiling and cheering me on already. This got me hype and ready to run the race right. I was finally up next, “Sisco Salinas”. It’s time, I walk to the side of the track…the gun goes off. They all take off, I wait with anticipation being the last leg of the race puts a burden on you. I watch, I wait adrenaline rises, heart pounding…my eyes have been visually running the race since we started. I get to the line we are in fourth place, I get handed the baton. I’ am everywhere but there my mind tells me, your parents are here with you. Encouraged, I keep sprinting and sprinting and I don’t stop, the crowd fall silent and how this Hispanic boy just passed everyone up…the last one-hundred meters and I’m dying I use what little I have left to pass the finish line and we finish in
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