"Semi narrative essay" Essays and Research Papers

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    Maybe for other people it was just an ordinary day to start their daily routine and to finish their tasks. But for Edwin and Nenita‚ it was an extraordinary day because another life was added to their family. And that day‚ which was on the 9th of June‚ 9:18 a.m. to be exact‚ was the time when I first exist in this world. My parents considered Ana Angelica to become my name but they thought that it was a long name. So at last‚ they decided to christen me as Angelica and in our home‚ they nicknamed

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    Helping people is a responsibility of every citizen‚ I believe. And I used to help everyone I could. I enjoyed the feeling I got when I reversed a stranger’s awful day and turned it into something good. I’ve learned better since then. Don’t get me wrong; I still agree with and practice the concept‚ but I’m much more adept at it now that I have gained experience. Even though I was the rescuer‚ it seemed like I always had to pay a personal price for being kind to people. After suffering much heartache

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    Danger levels or no danger levels‚ Snowbird tickets were quite expensive; so when we showed up to find a number of the main lifts closed due to the wind‚ we were not about to just turn around and go home. There still remained quite a few lifts that were not shut down‚ even though we could see the chairs swinging in the wind. My brothers and I honestly wondered why they were shutting down the lifts considering the wind was not very intense. We had snowboarded in much harsher weather and actually looked

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    The rain clambered on our small tin roof as I rolled my stone across our floor. The smooth stone glided over out bumpy floor‚ past my mother‚ who rested in her rocking chair‚ placid‚ the stone continued through the small room until it‚ at last‚ reached my brother‚ Rory‚ his sharp nose deep in a book‚ only his shaggy hair peeking above it. Without looking up‚ his left hand reached down to the floor and gently pushed the stone back. As the stone traveled past her once more‚ my mother stood‚ and announced

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    8th Grade Narrative Essay

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    As I move on to eighth grade I reflect on the many great memories I have shared at this school. Seventh grade was a fresh new year‚ not like sixth grade‚ or fifth‚ or fourth. You do not have high school next year like the eighth graders‚ you are not the young new ones like the sixth graders. You are the seventh graders or as many refer to the “middle class.” At this school I have done everything from fun field trips to studying for hard tests. From kindergarten to now going into eighth grade.

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    They seem to be everywhere‚ the movies‚ restaurants‚ and even on planes. Why can’t people learn common courtesies like chewing with their mouth closed‚ and getting another when their drink is gone? Honestly‚ is that too much to ask for? When I go to the movies‚ I want to enjoy it‚ not to listen to three people smacking their gum obnoxiously for the duration of ‘Maze Runner’. At first I turned around‚ but then decided to ignore them rather than yelling at them in the middle of the movie. But‚ unfortunately

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    My father’s military service didn’t comprehend to me until my mother finally allowed me to see him and create a bond with him‚ and I soon discovered why. I got a chance to spend the weekend with him which started off my visitation process. It was me and one of my younger sibling’s spending time with him‚ it was around eight pm when I heard a noise. I woke up to go check on him I was around the age of 6 ½‚ as I’m approaching the area he was in. I see him talking to his self and looking out the window

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    There was a loud clunk as some bright white lights flashed on and broke through the darkness under the canvas sack. I could make out a few shadows‚ but other than that the material was too thick to see through properly. Did I mention my mild claustrophobia? Either way‚ I was scared. More than scared. If it was one thing I’d leant in my profession‚ it was exposure to fear didn’t always create tolerance. Dr Crane had kindly proven that. I could hear Alexandra breathing harshly to my right‚ but the

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    High school is a period of wonder‚ excitement‚ and mystery‚ where a teen’s first taste of freedom guides them on their journey. On the contrary‚ it is a time of social pressure and anxiety‚ where fitting in with “the crowd” is what looms on every young boy’s mind. This was me as a sophomore‚ trying to fit into the archetype of the athlete; the student who could clock a 6 minute mile or just hit a jump shot. I would mirror their actions‚ trying to force myself to copy certain qualities‚ like music

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    At one point in my life‚ words were incomprehensible‚ the difficulty to concentrate became harder and harder each time. Unable to understand the words floating on my paper. It wasn’t until the age of eight‚ I was diagnosed with a curse called Dyslexia. As a kid‚ not being able to understand how you failed a spelling test or being so troubled with math questions was really frustrating. No matter how you explain any sort of reasoning‚ it’s always the same look of confusion or disappointment

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