Personal Narrative: A Separate Peace

Rebels Without a Cause Not very many people have affected me in the same way as my friend Jake Fernholz. I have never realized the influence he has had on me until someone pointed out that we talk and think the same way. I only met Jake two years ago in track, when a pulled hamstring injury caused Mr. Kellerman to have me practice with the long distance kids. Mr. Kellerman forced me into staying on the long distance team and that is where I started to hit it off with Jake. It took me a long time to be comfortable with Jake, but when I did we quickly found our common interests.

“European nations began world war 1 with a glamorous vision of war, only to be psychologically shattered by the realities of the trenches, the experience changed the way people referred to the glamour of battle , they treated it no longer as a positive quality but a dangerous illusion.” (Virginia Postrel) Many soldiers did not expect WW1 to be as gruesome as it was. “The War To End All Wars” changed the way people looked at war not just soldiers but the families and friends at home.

Crackle, pop the fire sounded as I placed new logs on top of the hot embers. This was the fire the children of my village sat around and told stories before they went to sleep, and tonight was no different. All of their eyes stared at me expectantly as they waited for me to start telling them a story. “Two Rivers Running, tell us the Story of the Great Battle again,” the little ones asked. All eyes were on me as I sat down next to them, everyone silent as I told them the story of the Great Battle.

Ms. NS expressed that she was often frustrated with her siblings that her family had been always the one to cook, clean for her and took her to the doctor’s office. Ms. NS reported that her grandfather left her grandmother when Ms. NS was still little. She stated that, because her grandfather had never been involved with her mother’s life, she neither knew who he was nor where he had been for all these years. Ms. NS recalled that she unknowingly ran into her grandfather at her uncle’s wife’s funeral one day, as she randomly greeted visitors. Ms. NS described that her mother came behind her and spoke in a low voice that this old gentleman was her

TERRY ENTERS HER MOTHERS ROOM AND IS SHOCKED WITH WHAT HER MOTHER HAS FOR HER Terry: Mom, are those flowers for me? Grandmother: Yes, honey they are for you. I just wanted to give them to you before the meeting and let you know how very proud I am of you and wish your father could have lived to see this day. He died while you were still living.

We needed to find an antidote for this thing that happened. While i went to find a place to stay hidden Justin went to go scavenge for food. When he came back he said there was no one at the market getting anything at all there was even any workers or electricity. The next day we decided to follow those people who were trying to get

Loud bickering traveled through the wind as the previously generous man demanded the return of his food. Gompo had shared his sampa and butter wishing to lighten his load and now with no food along with freezing weather the regret boiled up in trenches. “Ado [hey]! You better share with me! “ Gompo stomped around the camp saying, “ Please please please” to one person while turning around and demanding from another his reparations “Remember the sampa I shared with you.

After days of searching for refuge, through the tangle of eroding, weather-beaten and fragmented hills, two score soldiers manned a military outpost where the borders of Iran, Pakistan and Afghanistan meet, was placed right before our eyes and it was like the sorrows which previously filled our bodies during our walk to this place, not knowing we would actually find any refuge, had almost fled from our minds, in hope that we would be accepted into this place ahead of us. As we drew nearer and nearer to the refuge, the wind picked up, our energy slowed down, his lips cracked and bled and the sparse energy left in me completely drained out of me and I collapsed onto the ground. Moments later, my head was being cradled in the crook of his arm and I felt the drops of water trickling down my face and onto my eyes, clearing the sand and dust which allowed me to slightly flicker my eyes open to see so many unfamiliar faces staring down at me and the only familiar face, my lover, reached his hands to mine and gently pulled me into his arms, guiding me to a hut which we have been allowed in for as

During a tour of the infamous Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, California, two adventurous teens get separated from the group and find themselves locked in the house overnight. “Joey! Joey!!! Where are you, I’m scared,” I said as I search through the dark haunted house that Joey and I are now locked in. I run in circles scared out of my mind, wondering where Joey is.

“Did you know somebody murdered Mrs. Lincoln? We’re talking to the neighbors and of course, to you.” “The lady across the street told me about it. I assure you that I would never harm her,” he said in broken English as tears filled his eyes, wiping them on his dirty shirtsleeve, he said, “My English ain’t good, but she was a great person.” “I want to ask you some questions.”

The grandmother shared the back seat with her eight year old grandson, John Wesley, and granddaughter, June Star. She brought her cat, Pitty-Sing along hidden in a basket under her suitcase. The grandmother wanted to visit an old plantation so she created a story about a hidden treasure which made the

Agnes Carrier peered into the darkness at the small slice of light coming from her grandmother’s room. She could hear the occasional giggle, a snap here, a clunk there. Grandmother was retrieving her dolls. Ordinarily, the room across the hall was quiet, but for the last few weeks, Agnes’s grandmother was getting involved in her bedtime routine. Her father would pluck her from in front of the television, carry her up the stairs, tuck her in bed, while grandmother brought in her dolls, the actors in her nightly bedtime story.

Corned beef. Hundreds of gallons of water. … Plastic trashbags stuffed with blankets… I found everything. Everything.

Tonight I finished packing for my trip because in the morning we would be leaving our house in Yorba Linda to go to Las Vegas. Every year, for summer break, we go on a big vacation. This year my parents decided that we would spend our month long trip in Las Vegas. This trip doesn 't compare to our trip to Orlando; but, I am glad that I am going to leave the house and visit someplace else.

Molly, at the tender age of ten Molly was dropped off at her grandmother’s house to live, after she had made her stepfather angry by not allowing her little brother in her bedroom. Her stepfather was angry he removed her bedroom door because his son a four years old, could enter Molly’s room anytime he wanted to. Molly’s stepfather did not like her, and he did not want her around he wanted her to be gone. Molly was a cute little girl with pretty brown curly hair with big brown beautiful eyes she was medium height, and average weight for her age. Molly’s grandmother was in Vacaville from Mesa, Az.