Personal Narrative To Pattonville High School

I had missed three days of school ever since I’m first day of sophomore because I told my mum I was too sick to go. While this was true, I couldn’t even choke down any food these days, I knew it was because of my fears and not my illness. It was the first day of sophomore, I’m glad that freshman year was over and a new year had come, but I finally got myself a boyfriend, that’s totally not in the cards. As I pace around the hallway panicky searching for Luke, Alexis parade into the hallway, red lipsticks on, high heeled stilettos clack echoed against the marble floors and granite walls, along with her crowd of ‘friends’. Her steps were closer, clack click clack click she was towards my direction, I scrambled through my books in the locker and lumbered away, the echoing sound of her steps sped.

That had not told me much only where to show up, when, and how to dress. Basic Academy, just by the name I knew it would be a lot of work. One month later after passing more tests, learning the rules, more on dress, and expectations, they said I am ready to work in the largest prison in the state. An overnight move, no time to take in the new town, the new house, just off to bed, my fresh pressed uniform hung alone in the closet, my boots below shined from the full moons light.

Threw out my high school career, I have been at Camelback High School within the Montessori program that is relatively new to the school. I wake up early (around 5am) and take the bus everyday to school because I choose not to drive. I have thought about quitting more than once, but decided to stay because I strive for completion. I also pride myself on my honesty. The truth is I always do the bare minimum but I also attempt the extra mile whenever

Showers became a chore, instead of a means of proper hygiene. Now at fourteen I was wobbling around as if I were a toddler learning to walk for the first time, not sure of my footing, having to hold on to furniture for balance, as well as reassurance. I began to attend physical therapy:basic actions were now a challenge. Stepping up more than five stair felt like a marathon leaving me dripping with sweat followed by the stiffness from to much exertion. Leg weights became a necessity to me:hundreds upon hundreds of leg lifts,followed by leg presses, and weighted lunges these became monotonous.

The sun started rising on a perfect summer day. Today was October 18, 2013. I barely got out of bed and rubbing my eyes, I was tired and now annoyed at my clock for waking me up. I walked down the hall and stopped at the smell of French toast. Wait, I thought, I only have French toast on birthday mornings.

Nothing could have prepared me for how rigorous the practices were. I suddenly felt extremely inferior and disappointed that I could not even make it through the warm ups let alone the actual practice. Team overall was very friendly but the upperclassmen

I pulled down the sleeves of my army green jacket as I walked out of the front door of my high school. I was so glad to be done with this week and be able to go home and relax. I have never had anything that stressed me out more than school. It was only getting close to the end of first semester, and I had already lost all motivation. My teachers sucked.

The sunlight from outside was beaming through the shades and onto my white comforter that allowed my body to feel so cozy in my bed, which made it that much harder to wake up and get dressed. “If you don 't get up within the next five minutes, I 'm leaving you home!” my mother exclaimed. I could never miss church according to my parents. The problem was I

When my alarm clock sounded at five o 'clock in the morning on the first day of summer, I groaned as my fingertips searched for the snooze button and pulled the covers over my head. I dreaded this moment for weeks, not only because it meant waking up before the sun but also because it meant I would be taking care of seventy-plus exuberant kids for the rest of summer. Working with kids didn’t intimidate me, I adored kids and I had been a caretaker for kids since the young age of three when my twin brothers were born. However, I was fazed by the thought of my entire summer being chaos and mayhem.

Thanksgiving Break I woke up inside my college dorm bathroom, the only light that was filtering was through the filmy windows high above the showers. I was also alone, tried opening the door, only to find out I was trapped. Then I realized that it’s the first morning of Thanksgiving Break, and since the dorms were cleared out and locked, I’m stuck for the next four days. I usually have my phone with me at all times but this time i didn't realize I had left it in my roommate's bed and I wished I knew how I ended up sleeping in the restroom.

I am awakened by the bright light seeping through and around my black-out curtains. The clock on my night stand reads 3:02pm. I realize it is Thursday my night off from work and that I actually slept 6 straight hours with no interruption (that’s a record since I started working nights at the hospital). Still drowsy I toss my covers off and peel my listless body from the comfort of my cozy bed. I stumble down the stairs to the kitchen where I turn on my Keurig and realize it is “THURSDAY!

I’ll never forget how I felt the first time I walked into Prairie Ridge High School. I was surrounded by approximately sixteen hundred other students and I knew exactly none of them. I had never been that alone before and when I walked through the cafeteria doors, I felt the first seed of doubt that maybe I should have stayed in Union, with my mom. At that moment, I wanted to turn around and run out of Prairie Ridge, hop in the car, and drive the four hundred miles back to my friends, my teammates, and the majority of my family. Instead, I took a deep breath and sat down.

I’m not an orator, nor am I a scholar. Though I do enjoy a good debate and engaging in intellectual conversations ; I feel like I am never “good-enough”. I always seem to find myself comparing myself to others. Whether it’s my grades or appearance. I never feel worthy.

All my life, I have I lived in Texas and considered it my home; however, I have a difficult time pinpointing exactly where “home” is, considering I’ve moved four times. I am more of a displaced resident than anything else. Being exposed to many different communities and circles of friends, I’ve been forged into the resilient person I am today. At Faubion Elementary in Austin, I didn’t have any real friends there, and consequently, barely remember attending.

I step out of my Dad’s blue shiny Honda van as he says “good luck on your first day”. I force up a weak smile as I close the door and it made a whoosh noise as it closes. I look at the entrance for a good five minutes. I take a deep breath and slowly as a turtle, a zombie and snails. I thought to myself, a zombie and a snails.