The Power of One- Personal Narrative The warm winter sunlight glared off of the ice covered snow. The brilliance of the bright blue sky caught my attention for a moment as I took my first breath of the freezing cold morning air. I felt the fresh air surge deep into my chest as my nose dripped slightly. Native prairie grasses and other vegetation began to peek out from the blanket of week old snow that covered the area. I quietly crept along a barb wire fence fashioned long ago from misshaped fence posts and rust covered wire. The snow crunched under the weight of my footsteps as the early morning winter wind nipped at the exposed portions of my face. Constantly remembering how important my father felt it was to be silent, I began to dance from one uncovered clump of grass to another in an attempt to cushion my thunderous footsteps. The estimated two hundred paces from my uncle’s pick up truck seemed to last an eternity as the anticipation of the moment consumed my thoughts. Remaining silent, I strategically positioned myself to face the clearing. I leaned on an old, half rotten tree stump that overlooked three fields, where the decrepit fence ended and did not continue for another fifteen yards. Just south of my position continued the decaying fence that divided a four acre sliver of timber. This particular sliver of timber consisted of thick underbrush and numerous trees that provided excellent cover for trophy bucks seeking seclusion. A cornfield lay at my back along with the warm winter sunlight that touched my neck and warmed my entire body. A soybean field, or what remained of one anyhow, rested due east of my sheltered position. It provided the perfect opportunity for an unobstructed shot at a prized trophy. I leaned back into the cover of another small tree, shielding myself from the biting winter wind, and started to imagine myself becoming a man. At only twelve years of age, becoming a man was a difficult concept to grasp.
I remember the year my Highschool team went to the state championship. My team the Kansas City Hawks went up against the twelve time champs The St.Louis Kings. What made them twelve time champs was us. Every time my team went to the championship The Kings met us there. All twelve times The King where the victors. January 25,2024 The Hawks were on a warpath for that Championship.
Personal Narrative There lay her limp body staring up at us. Her cold eyes were no longer
SWISH! I turn my head to the right with a grin and see my mom cheering as I scored my first points of the season. The last game of the season I scored my first points of my middle school basketball “career.” Now sit back and relax as you read the story of how I got my first points in middle school basketball.
On the Monday October 27th, 2014, for the first time in 4 years I did not wake up at 5:30 in the morning, I was not putting on a green skivvy shirt and shorts. There was no formation, no one that was higher command I had to report to, telling me where I had to go, what time I had to eat breakfast, what was I doing this day or what our platoon plans were for the day. There were no PT (physical training) I had to do this morning. Instead, I woke up grab a regular t-shirt, khaki shorts, and my two sea bags full of clothing and gear that I collected during my time in the Marine Corps. I threw everything in my vehicle and drove from Camp Pendleton, California to Quincy, Illinois. Within two weeks I was accepted to Southern Illinois University Carbondale. For three days, I stayed at the
Nothing could be worst than your dad bringing up "THE CONVERSATION." Starting at age 5 I loved playing soccer,running up and down the field, making moves and kicking balls to the back of the net was always the way to go. Soccer meant the world to me and especially playing with my best friends since the day I started. My days would go something like this, go to school,get home,do homework then get ready and go to a beautiful fun day at soccer!After soccer I would go home sit on the couch and eat.I was a lazy one. That's why I hoped my dad would never ever bring up this conversation.... But he did anyways.
My summer was completely over. I love my grandma and everything, but she had just ruined what I had been looking forward to the ENTIRE year.
Typically, the drive home would have taken two hours. We were seven hours in. The snow was blowing sideways– I was practically blind.
Here we are, 13 years old me. It was summer, in 2017. My friend Bryan and I were going into eighth grade, and starting to look at relationships more seriously. Bryan wasn’t really into them at this point, so when a girl started to like him, he didn’t care. We met this girl named Krista, from other friends. She was 5’3”, pale, funny, and caring. Krista immediately went after Bryan, doing whatever she could to make him happy. Bryan finally had to tell her how he actually felt. After doing so, she came to me. Looking for comfort, in which I gave her. We both started to catch feelings after talking for a week or so. Then one night, everything changed. She was mine, and I was hers. We had gone to Panera for a “first date” and we had a blast. We sat next to each other, I had my hand around her and her head was on my shoulder. I don’t think I had ever been so happy in my whole life. All I could think was, how did I, pale, short, athletic, and crazy, get a girl like that.
It was the storytelling part of law that fascinated Sarah. The challenge of finding a way of turning the ‘accused’ into a person, someone real and vulnerable; someone that the judge and jury – if there was a jury - would warm to and empathise with. There was a way of presenting the evidence, the arguments that gave the court a sense of the person beyond the crime, before the crime; storytelling was what made the difference between a good barrister and a mediocre one. The prosecution would produce victim statements from the dead girl’s parents and her sister, the grandparents, the aunts and uncles and friends. These would be sad accounts. Narratives that would fill the courtroom with grief and with anger, that would make no sentence seem long
This is a personal story to me, to understand this story we will have to start at from beginning. I hope you enjoy this story and it is both entertaining and heartwarming to you as I am sharing a personal event in my life. Join me on this journey of discovery as I unveil one of the darker mysteries in my life.
Do you have a interesting story about something that has happened to you? Well, I sure have one. This event may be enjoyable for you, but it definitely was not for me! This event is the most scary thing that has happened to me. I never thought this scary incident would give me a good lesson.
This entire week, the young boy had been acting awfully strange. Not in a bad way, I just don’t think he has ever been this nice to me. I had begun to think maybe something was wrong, something was up, but I couldn’t think of anything, he was only being nice. Although, every night around the same time, every time, I think I'm hearing something. I had tried to think of a rational reason that I was hearing things, maybe a mouse. But no, every night this past week I hear my door opening. Maybe I’m just becoming senile and paranoid, but it feels so real. I can feel the cold air come in from the outside, and it wakes me. Maybe I am becoming senile and paranoid, I sound like a madman! I’ve began to think maybe it is the young boy, spying on me? I’m not sure, I’m almost positive the young boy doesn’t have anything against me, from every encounter that I can recall, I have been nothing but nice to him!
When I was a kid, everyday I’d prayed for my dad to come back, and Noodles for lunch everyday.
Sitting as still as possible on the forest floor, I watch the squirrels jump from tree to tree and i listen to the birds flutter their wings and call out to the other birds in a beautiful chirp.Its as if i didnt exist to them and for some odd reason,i found a great deal of comfort in that.I close my eyes even though with the sun shining directly in them,it is only less dark and not black. the wind shifts the trees and brings the scent of the nearby flowers that have only just bloomed so they're poignant and simply irresistible.The smell is so strong,i can almost see the wildly vivacious and vivid petals.Some would be lying on the ground and some would be clinging on the their plant,creating a beauty that nothing else can create and
It was a gloomy saturday afternoon an ash colored cloud covering every inch of the sky. My mom Tiffany, her boyfriend Kelly, and I all sat around the old wooden oval dining table. I was not thrilled to be sitting there thinking back on all of the other family memories that had been made with my dad and brother. My mom was saying something, but I wasn’t listening. It was like I was underwater my vision was a blurred around me, and everything was inaudible through my ears. Just seconds ago I had received possibly the most life changing news in my teenage years.