"Ethiopian personal narrative essay" Essays and Research Papers

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    “I won‚ I won!” I screeched in excitement‚ I rushed to the office. “Billy‚ Johnson won the school contest he is now allowed to be a teacher for a day” Principal Higgins ruggedly yelled over the speakers. “Who am I teaching for?” I asked politely. Suddenly‚ Principle Higgins turned around and replied back “You are going to be filling in for Mrs. lewis today!”. Principle Higgins slowly guides me to Mrs. Lewis’s classroom. I come in the classroom noticing everyone’s staring at me‚ Principle Higgins

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    The Tornado It was July 22‚ 1983‚ and a nice and sunny day until 5:00pm. Duke‚ Mary‚ and I were staying after school for guitar practice. We were in Mr. Jones classroom when the wind started blowing really hard. Then the police man came in and yelled‚ "There is a tornado get the kids in the gym now!" So‚ we went in the gym. "I’m scared‚" Joy said. "Me too‚" said Duke‚ who sounded very scared. "This is my first time being in school when there was a tornado‚" explained Mary

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    I was apart of an Internet group full of women. I was browsing the posts when I came across a fascinating woman and I clicked on her photo. My Person was sitting next to me when he said‚ “who is that?!” So I clicked on her profile and viewed her photos with him. We looked through pictures of The Violinist. “Wow. She is absolutely stunning.” He said. I agreed. At the time‚ My Person and I were no longer in a relationship. I wanted space while he was desperately trying to cling onto what little of

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    President DJ Brackish was furious as he made his way to the oval office in a trot. How dare someone come into the White House and attack his security in his office. With the description he received he could guess pretty close to who was responsible‚ Anna Freeman. That little girl had another thing come if she thought she could attack the capital of her own country and get away with it. If she thought killing Y and stilling Estallia’s child was the worst of it‚ she was way off. He didn’t bring any

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    Stitches When I got into the car with my mom‚ there was blood everywhere. There was what used to be a white towel and it is completely red now. I started freaking out. I was scared and i asked my mom what happened and she wouldn’t tell me. My mom rushed to the hospital and she told me that my dad was getting stitches because he had cut his leg open. He was playing softball for his work and he was sliding to 3rd base and his leg got cut open by a piece of metal in the middle of the field I felt

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    Race-Personal Narrative

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    I was addicted to the feeling of flying through the water so fast and gracefully. My specialty stroke was butterfly and I loved to sprint. I would never sign up to compete in any race that was long distance. I didn’t believe I had the strength or endurance to compete in any of those races‚ and I did not want to make a fool of myself by getting a slow time. This all changed by the time I got to middle school‚ and I realized my love for distance racing. I was sitting outside the pool door on a cold

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    It started out as any other normal day. Except for one thing. "Plop". A blob of white‚ slimy goo fell onto the side of my bed. I look up‚ half expecting to see some sort of monster‚ drooling all over me. Instead I see a ceiling covered in goo. "Plop". This time it falls onto my face. Gross. I quickly roll out of my bed‚ and grab my shoes. By the time I am done with that‚ the atrocious liquid is spewing down my walls. "Mom!" I yell. I wait for a response but no one answers. I call for my mom

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    The Move Just thinking about that warm‚ June day‚ still brings tears to my eyes. I have always loved my life the way it was; waking up‚ eating breakfast‚ going to school‚ learning‚ leaving school‚ go to dance until late‚ come back home and do homework‚ and then go to sleep. This was my daily routine. I always had to make sure that I worked hard‚ which I did. For school‚ I was in the third grade and currently in all honors courses. In dance‚ I was doing a solo‚ had four group numbers‚ and a production

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    Divorce; when I think of it I get the chills. I don’t like thinking about home my once happy full home would split into two very separate houses. If that is you actually live in both houses or is it just a visit. It reminds me of the time where my parents picked my older brother Zander and I from school on a sunny June afternoon and brought us to a park. We sat a picnic table where my mom and dad proceeded to tell us they were “taking a break”. As a six year old I didn’t understand what that meant

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    One thing I enjoyed about the story would be the multiple conflicts introduced in the story. One conflict I found interesting would be when Alison was getting kidnapped and Kyle was having problems on what he should do: “Oh god. He should’ve never stepped outside. Once they were gone he’d just go back inside‚ pretend he’d never stepped out‚ make the model-railroad town‚ still be making it when Mom and Dad got home. When eventually someone told him about it? He’d make a certain face... They’d be gone

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