The doc told me this would happen. I’d feel sick, nauseated with a headache. Couldn’t do anything about it. I woke in an alley-way and everything was spinning, I couldn’t focus on anything. I tripped, I stumbled out of there, like a deranged drunk and went out with one intent only. To save the future. The year was 2030, a dystopian future really, after that God forsaken idiot became president. Starting world war three. The world became his battle ground and hundreds of millions of innocents were caught in the cross fire. However, this crisis can all be traced back to that one man the man that I’ve been sent back to kill. Donald Trump. Countless hours the doc put in to building his time thingy ma jig and it was finally ready, and fully operational. …show more content…
The buildings, the cars, even the clothes. I hailed a taxi and toppled into it and said "Sacramento International Jet Centre please". “So you going to the Trump rally, you know his policies are as good as his hair”. “Non-existent”. That taxi driver was the me 14 years ago. I wasn’t much to look at, had a job as a taxi driver to pay my rent. I eventually volunteered for the army became a marksmen and a pretty damn good one. I had nothing to live for, orphaned at the aged of sixteen no one to take care of me. That’s why I volunteered. However, I was working when my mom died at the rally and my father died before I was born. So my alterative motive to come back was to get some closure on what little family I used to have. “And we’re here”. I went in with the large crowd and I was standing right in front of the stage. All of them were delinquents, with no idea of what they are supporting. Trump came out, and there’s a deafening roar from the crowd. I look around in pity for all these people thinking about how my mother supported him, all I had was a photo of my mother given to me by the doc. Blonde hair, brown eyes and a noticeable mole on her right shoulder I had a quick look around. A lost cause looking for
When I time traveled to the future, it was weird because I went with my sister and with my best friend Layla, but first I will tell you the beginning of the story. When Layla and I were sitting at our desks until our teacher Mrs. Saver showed us a new book called time travel. We both wanted to read the book so we asked Mrs. Sarver if Layla and I could read the book together and Mrs. Sarver told us yes, but we can’t joke around or mess around with each other or she will separate us. When Layla and I went to my house, Layla asked me “wouldn’t you want to travel to the future” and then I got an Idea. I told Layla that she had to go home, but Layla asked me why, so I told her that I had to do my homework, when she left I went to my parent’s
I hurt everywhere. I try to slowly open my eyes but it is so hard, the blinding light hurts my head, I slowly peel my eyes open to find myself in a strange bathroom. Everything is old and dirty looking and I don’t mean dirty like “when my mom told me to clean my bathroom and there was only a ponytail on the sink and a few boy pins, dirty,” I mean it looked as if nobody had cleaned this bathroom in 15 years and still people used it. Once I establish myself, my eyes begin to wander, I am in a stained tub with all of my clothes still on me.
You would think that when I decided what to do with the rest of my life, it would be some profound moment when something huge took place. Nothing dangerous or crazy happened, but my heart was changed. Suddenly, everything made sense to me and I knew what journey I was going to take and why I was going to take it. The funny thing about all of this is, it was one kindergartner who opened my eyes. One five year-old who showed me what I’m destined to do for the rest of my life.
Personal Narrative: The World The world is a messed up place and we are all stuck here until our lives are through, or until we choose to leave. It's strange that I go along with everything everyone tells me, such as that I should wear certain clothes or listen to certain songs. I often wonder why I do the things I do, but then I just realize that's who I am. People are confused about why they are here, and they don't understand what life is supposed to be about.
It would have been easy to resolve had either one of us wanted to end the squabble. Looking back, it is unbelievable to me that I acted the way I did. Again and again the situation runs through my mind, unveiling new ends to the argument. It was a perfect example of similar scenes playing themselves out all over the world - the most basic level of social conflict we have, the easiest to resolve.
A thin, brown stick glows. From its tip exudes a discreet swirling trail of smoke, as if from a genie’s lamp. The subtle spice of incense tingles my nose, and triggers an intense feeling of dromomania, the desire and longing for travel. My mind wanders off, and I find myself back in Vietnam, at the sacred Thien Mu Pagoda, where a field of bright orange incense sticks, set in a large bronze basin, glow against the hazy, muggy dusk. About me are Buddhist monks, some perched amidst the lush, green gardens; and others in a group over in a tiled, rectangular courtyard, immersing themselves in an intense, but friendly, game of soccer. The vision fades, and my nose transports me to the bustling streets of the Old Quarter of Hanoi where the sweet and
I am not out going enough to do slightly embarrassing things in front of many people, so I decided to break a social norm at home. I broke a social norm by asking my mom permission before I did anything. I did this experiment on a day I had class at the MCC but not at my high school. I first started asking her question through text. In the morning, I would ask if I could get ready for school, eat breakfast, got to college, do my college work. Then I would ask if I could leave the college, come home, and enter my house. Once I got into my house, I would run into her room before I asked a question. I asked if I could use the bathroom, get some food, eat food, and watch T.V.
Growing up as a first-generation Muslim Ethiopian male living in a lower-middle-class society, I had to face plenty of challenges and changes because my parents were new to Canada, and had to work endlessly for me and my two siblings so that we could live a stable life.
A bright sunny spring day, the bus lane in filled with a bunch of bright yellow buses.”Bye” I said to my friend as I walk onto the load noisy bus. Walking to my seat trying not to bump my violin into anything. I get to my seat near the back of the bus. I set down my violin first than my backpack leaving me barely any space to sit. I get up a bit from my seat to look through the window cause my violin case was in my way. After what seemed like forever I open my fairly new backpack to get my phone because of my lack of entertainment. One problem, my phone wasn’t there.
Being a soldier was a really tough life. In the end I hated doing the same thing day after day with no change in sight, I despised the leaders that didn 't take care of their subordinates, and most importantly, I couldn 't lead my soldiers from the front anymore. I 'll be the first one to say that joining the army was the best thing to happen to me. I have grown so much as a person and the lessons I learned are invaluable. In the end I realized the negative factors outweighed any possible benefit I might receive from continued service. It was time for me to
We turn onto the busy street accelerating up to the speed limit, as we're both jamming out to the song called Space Mother. We approach a green light in the right lane of traffic, going by a big line of cars in the opposite lane waiting to turn left. In a spilt second my improving mood was struck with shock, as we approached a newly changed yellow light, my friend gives the gas a quick tap to boost his speed a little bit, mean while I can see the big oil field truck turning right into our path. I'm frozen in fear not being able to say anything. While my friend was unable to see because his view is blocked from the up coming intersection by the traffic in the lane next to him. My hands are stuck to the dash to help brace my self for the impact, as he steps on the brakes. I hear the very brief squealing of our pickups tires. Then came the crumpling of the smaller S-10 as it impacted the one ton pickup at 40 mph. Sending me straight into the windshield and making a perfect head shape indentation in the glass, while popping the entire windshield out. My knee area on my pants had taken the red paint off the dash. My knees had smashed the dash into three different section.
Every day, I wake up, and I get to see my family, and friends, everyday. In America many people have this opportunity, and in other countries many don’t. America has given my generation the gift of freedom to, religion, and speech. I get to go to an amazing school every day and learn about things I’ll need to know. I get the endowment every day, to do what I would like to do volleyball, hang with friends, go to school, and go to church.
My generation is the worst that has ever existed. We are the laziest, most ignorant, most spoiled, most naive, most carefree group of people to walk this Earth.
[Actually,] I had so many reasons for wanting to do this. The first was for money. The military was willing to train me, feed me, house me, and when I was back home give me cash for college, "up to" forty thousand dollars. At that time I thought that was an incredible deal. Where else in the world could I find an opportunity like this one? [Yet t]he price I would pay wouldn't be worth "up to" forty thousand. Another great reason for joining the Army was to get in shape. I had visions about this ultra lean and strong body I would get from running five miles a day. I was also looking forward to the overall experience of inner strength, confidence, and pride in my country. As much as I was excited about doing something different and brave, I was also full of fear.
I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.