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Stories about my personal narrative
Stories about my personal narrative
Reflection on writing personal narrative
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“This is pointless.” I muttered those words at a volume that could only be heard by my own ears. The waiting room was torture, and the waiting was even more torturous. Two fake, and very plastic looking plants sat in the corner, shining abnormally in the harsh lighting. My palms were sweaty from anxiety and the unbearable heat that seemed to encase the room. My mom sat at the couch opposite of me, her reading glasses illuminated from the glow of her cell phone. Music played softly from the empty front desk that sat behind a wooden baby gate. It wasn’t that I expected a therapist’s waiting room to look like. I expected obnoxiously cheerful posters telling me to keep on living and to be healthy. I arrived in that room with an attitude that could put what I felt boiling over inside me to shame. “I don’t want to be here,” I mumbled, a bit more audibly than I intended. I wondered absently what would happen if I just strolled out the door and never came back to …show more content…
His silver colored head seemed to brush the top of the doorway as he appeared. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He vaguely resembled grandpa who appeared at a family gathering that one has heard of on occasions, but his persona was never elaborated on. That one grampa that went to college and was successful and envied. A petite woman emerged from the doorway as well, which only emphasised his immense height. She nodded in response, and ushered herself out the door into the relief of cold air. Even the January weather seemed like a better option than the microwave we were nestled in. “Lauren?” he asked, trekking across the baby gate. I nodded in response, and continued to pet the adorable, eternally moving dog at my feet. He decided that it was a bright idea to show me a toy rope that sat in the corner of the room, and set it at my feet expectantly. “That’s Poco,” he
Another resident assistant that I interviewed was Patrick Fullerton who serves Blanton Hall. His attention to carrying out the position in its entirety showed how I will also need to prioritize my commitments. A resident assistant is first a student and a worker second, so being able to carry out the demands of a RA but acknowledging that school is equally as important is crucial. Patrick’s excitement about encouraging residents exploration of the campus and the Red Hawk experience showed how a resident assistant’s job is never ending. You’re always recreating new ways to redefine the experience at MSU worthwhile especially for first-year and younger students. He spoke so proudly about the various programs, either social or educational, that
During my first night in the station, I was taken to an interrogation room by three agents. In the room, I was seated and handcuffed, and then interrogated and questioned about which Oromo party I support. “ I know nothing and I have no connection or any involvement with any party in the country . I am a peaceful civilian and a national team Boxer.” , was my response.
As I sit silently in the waiting room, with my knuckles turning a lighter shade of white every second, I keep thinking about the questions I want to ask. Why? What? How? “Maxwell, room twelve please,” the receptionist said in a monotonous voice, making my hands shake.
I stare out the window as we drive past the many trees. I hate the trees. There blocking my view from the sky. I wish I could see the sky, it's the only thing that can make me feel sane. It's the only thing that can make me feel like a normal human.
We began our way down the long hall lined with informational posters that told you just what type of dog you were adopting. My father has always been more of a dog person, but we’ve been restricted to cats my whole life because of my brothers allergies. Entering that concrete room full of violent fluorescent lights and howling dogs was simply overwhelming. The small beagle on our left lept three feet in the air at the sight of my dad and I bending over to pet him through the bottom portion of the cage. I left my dad to pet the smaller dog as I made my way around the labyrinth of cages. I was met with a taped off area covered in water, and two pitbulls, crying for attention. Ignoring the wet floor caution tape, I stuck my hand in the larger
By next period, all I could think about was what Gemma said about the epiphany. The less we exposed ourselves, the less strange things manifested. Did that mean we would never return to the red room or go through any more doors? I had said it myself, but for some reason, this seemed unsettling. My juvenile curiosity wanted to continue, but Gemma had been right from the beginning, it was dangerous, and I had to accept that.
She had a body scan, an echo, and a breathing tube test. Sitting in four different waiting rooms packed with lots of 4-9 year olds and their families with my younger brother Joey was horrible. It took six long boring hours for all of this to be finished and me and Joey we tired, hungry, and were about to kill one another. We fought over headphones, water bottles, and the last bag of chips in the vending machine. Finally we got to leave and start driving to our guest house in stanford. It was very nice and super fancy and of course Joey looked homeless. My mom insisted that Joey should change his clothes in the parking lot while we go and check in.
Walking into a nursing home every day is hard enough , let alone when you're there to see your best friend . My grandpa had terminal cancer throughout his body . He was the best friend I had and I was going to lose him . He was diagnosed after it was too late to do anything about it and only had a few months to live . He was in and out of the hospital going back and forth from the nursing home . One day around a month before he died , he sat me down on his bed next to him and started to point out the window . On this rainy day covered in clouds I was wondering what he could be pointing at . He said " Do you see that spot right there ? " . I shook my head yes and waited for him to catch his breath . " Whenever you miss me , that's where i'll be . You can look up at the
“Oh no!” She exclaimed as she pushed the door open. “Do we need to go back?”
Dr. Rust's Office, these three words echo throughout my head and I can't breathe. I sit in this awful discomforting place. My body shakes in terror and Suddenly I hear a soft comforting voice say my name, "Genna, Dr. Rust is ready to see you now." On the outside, I am smiling and happy, but on the inside, I scream in terror. Although I had been there and experienced that extreme pain many times before, I dreaded yet another visit to the dentist.
Who brought me here? Out of impulse, my hand travels to my face, pressing the throbbing area on my right temple. I felt a scar and flinched at the pain. I tried to get up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I instantly fell back on to the bed. My body, engulfed in pain as if objecting my decision to stand up. I lay there pathetically, waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, illuminated with a white fluorescent light. Perhaps waiting for some help by the hospital staff. I still didn't know how I got here, who took me here, how long I've been here.
I covered the comforter over my head to try to block out the loud music coming from the living room. I wasn’t tired but mommy told me to stay in my room so sleep seemed like my only option. Brittney tossed and turned in the bunk above me and Michelle snored in the bottom bunk bed on the opposite side of the room. Rayvaun got up and went into the living room. Told us to stay in the room but he gets away with everything because he is the only boy. We are the same age but that doesn’t count for anything. Even though I couldn’t leave the room he left the door open wide enough for me to listen in on what was going on.
Spending a day in the Operation Room was very interesting and educational experience. I saw two procedures that were performed on the heart and the lung. The surgeon performed three different procedures on the patient’s heart, and at the end seeing how the aortic valve worked in person was awesome. The second procedure I got to observe was a Transbronchial Biopsy, which I thought was very cool procedure. On the other hand, I thought I was going to pass out on the open-heart surgery, but it turned out seeing a lung full of tumor and taking samples of that tumor made me squeamish.
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
“Whatever,” I continued “I’m late for class. Forget about the plans going to be library at lunch” getting out of my car and slamming the door so I could hear the bleep noise to lock.