Personal Narrative-Memoir Memoir-Personal Narrative Personal Narrative-Memoirm Personal Narrative: Memoir Personal Narrative: My Memoir

1. Personal Narrative-Memoir
Memoir
As the frost crept up my window, each snowflake was perfectly plastered in front of me. They
seemed as if they were putting on a show just for me, and I couldn't help but imagine that there
were tiny people living in each one. The soft hum of my mother's CD's played in the background
as my little brother was fast asleep to my right. I brushed my fingers through my dolls knotted hair,
feeling the itchy yarn envelope each finger. Looking out the window again all I saw were cars
speeding past us, all rushing to get to their own winter plans.
"Mommy? Are we any closer to the house now?"
"We're almost there, why don't you try and take a nap so you're not tired once we get there?" the
soothing voice of my mother replied.
I crossed...show more content...
I pushed open the door, and grabbed my brothers' hand, as I held him beside the car. I couldn't feel
anything, my body felt completely numb. More cars started to pull over, and people started to climb
out and call 911. Staring through the shattered windshield, I saw my mother's blood covered face.
"Mommy get out! Mommy, you're hurt!" I screamed hoping she'd hear me over all the madness.
My brother kept on crying as I pulled him closer into my arms, listening to the sirens blasting the
in distance. As the ambulance pulled up, I couldn't move. My body was frozen holding my
brother watching the paramedics pull my mom from the car. I tried to call out for her, but nothing
came out. They worked quickly strapping her to a gurney and whisking her off into the distance.
Through the fog, I watched the ambulance until I could no longer see the lights. It was then
realized that my mother was gone, and we were all alone. As a policeman approached us he got
down on one knee to be face to face with me.
"Hi, what are your names?" he asked with a smile.
I shyly responded, "I'm Taylor and this is Zach."
"Well Taylor, do you mind telling me how old you
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2. Memoir-Personal Narrative
Memoir Rough Draft
Typical, just a typical summer day for me. In fact, everything about it was typical. The time I got
up, what I had for breakfast and what projects my dad had in store for me to do on the old house.
My other family members would too also get jobs and projects to do around the house. Most of the
time everyone would work on separate things and we would get many things accomplished putting
us closer to our goal of getting the house on the market. But there would be times where we would
have to work with other people. Depending on who you worked with you either got stuff done or
you were arguing with that person about the silliest of things which would inevitably cause you to
slow done and not get anything done. For me, that was...show more content...
It was a long process that it took but we got to the point where we could take the smaller pieces
over to the trailer. We were on our final main part the middle section of the structure. It was a sort
of bulky piece, fairly large. We were going to finish taking thething apart when my grandpa had the
idea to just take the structure over to the fence and move it up and over the fence. I was not up
for his idea, I thought that the idea was one a not a very smart idea. Two, an idea that is an
impossible task to do. Finally, third, it was an idea that on could happen due to his Parkinson's
disease. But one thing about grandpa is that he is very persistence. So trying not to make him
mad or anything we follow his orders. Pushing and lifting that bulky thing, we tried with all our
might to carry that thing over the fence, which was a task too great for us to have achieved. We
tried a first time than a seconded then a third. Finally, on our fourth time, everyone was getting
tired. My brother and I knew that we need to tell our father. Dad was pretty mad at what our
grandpa did. So he told use to just finish taking it apart and then bring it over to the
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3. Personal Narrative-Memoirm
Kyle had completeely missed Olivia's upturned face, and the expectation of the kiss, his outward
demeanour apparently normal, as were his words, but his internal thoughts consumed by visions of
the mansion, for that's all it be called, and how his old College buddy had been able to afford it. Of
course, he already knew the answer to that second question, by stealing the ideas they'd both worked
on together back in their dorm room, and claiming it fully as his own. The flash of bitterness and
envy elicited by the sight of the perfectly manincured green lawns, and colourful flowers, pruned to
perfection that offset the pure white brick, and brought attention to it's magnificence quickly abated,
as he remembered his girlfriend, who knew nothing
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4. Personal Narrative: Memoir
Memoir
It was 8:30pm in my bedroom. I just got home from football practice like every other night. I was
sitting on my blue and black bed.
My golden retriever dog, Cassie came into the room wagging her tail happy to see me. Cassie stares
at me wanting to play a game of tug of war. I encourage my dog to hop onto my bed and she does so.
Cassie spins in a circle and lays down. She stares out and over the stairs waiting for my mom and
dad to walk up the loud stairs and say goodnight to me and my sister.
I have the worst headache I have ever had. The world is spinning around me. I rethink my football
practice. We worked on conditioning and blocking. At the end of practice we did turfs. Turfs are
where just one on one blocking and tackling.I...show more content...
My Mom knocks on the door and I say ,"Come in." My parents walk into the room. Mom is wearing
her blue scrubs from work and my dad is wearing a white t–shirt and some workout shorts. My mom
had just gotten home from work in Boulder.
I am full from the dinner she just made. My mother asks if I had a good day. I do not know, I can't
think it is to hard to remember. I get frustrated at this simple question and don't reply. I realize that I
have not yet fed my bearded dragon Draco. I am angry at myself every night I forget and it makes
me feel bad for the little guy. I get off of my bed and walk to my closet door where all my cloths and
the food for Draco is. I open the door to get Draco's food. I turn on the lights. There is a flash of red
light and I stumble.
My Mom asks,"are you OK?".
Am I Ok? In school I have done research on concussions and the symptoms for it in my language
arts class. I wish I were Ok but I know in my gut it is not true. My brain is starting to hurt a lot and
the pain is unbearable. I think about how concussions limits the amount of things people can do. No
more running, no more books, no more TV, no more
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5. Personal Narrative: My Memoir
I found out that I had deep buried emotions. I didn't know they were so deep before. I thought I
was healed from my experiences but I have come to the realization that I was not healed
emotionally. I also found out that I had a plot inside me and stories to tell from that plot.
I was very scared to write one of my memoir. The main reason for my fear was that I was scared of
what others may think of me. I have learned that when you are writing, whatever you are afraid to
write about, go ahead and write it. Don't think what others will think just write. So I wrote as if I
were the only one reading it.
I think I have grown from the experience of writing memoirs and interacting with my classmates. I
have grown in the sense that I have overcome
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