Me One

The photo I have chosen is actually not really a selfie. I never take selfies actually. If you were to take a look at my phone, you would only find 4 of them. This is one of the closest you can get. I never caught the Selfie fever that everyone around me and their mothers have. I was introduced late to the technology game, only getting my first phone at the end of 8th grade. It was a Iphone 3. Today I have an Iphone 5s. And with the 8 coming soon, you might consider the technology I have from the

life feels intimated since the future of student mostly rely on how they manipulate the time. I wonder if I can keep myself into college, or will I be counted as one in those thirty percent of first-year college students. I don’t want to be that statistic; I won’t be. The present that I hold highlights my past, where life granted me one last chance to change my destiny. When I was eleven-years-old, my family and I lived in Nepal as refugees. Also, our house, as well as others, was constructed from

that it’s been dyed a darker red and has been curled as well. Makeup, which makes me look younger, shows on my face, and I spot sand between my fingernails. Confused, I walk as I look down at them until I reach my door. Just as I open the door, a hot and steamy air pulses out at me. I step out, and I find that I’m in a courtyard filled with people. A stone

jump to success or have a bad attitude to everything and waste the rest of their lives. I, a seventeen-year-old student, was stuck in a world of choices, and did not know which way to go. Since I was not a very good student at school, everybody advised me to enroll in an easy-to-get-admitted-to college in Vietnam. As a stubborn girl, I objected to that, and made a big decision that surprised all of them: to apply for the APU scholarship to study abroad. When deciding to apply for the scholarship offered

the path I chose. As I grew, I learned about the world around me and myself. I learned these things gradually each small bit of information being picked up and put with other pieces, until one piece came along that was just a little bit bigger and more significant than the others. It was the middle of spring, and I had survived sixth grade up to this point without incident. I hadn’t experienced anything that would truly have an impact on me as a person. Things were normal and easy. Few serious thoughts

determination and independence. I was raised by my parents and they are “sending me off into the wild” in a way, since this is my first time away from home and away from them. I feel grown enough to “survive” and I will do my best to make them proud and use everything they have taught me. I am the fawn, raised by my Mother and taught how to survive. However, my Mom is still holding on, which isn’t necessarily bad but sometimes hinders me on my own journey. When you are this age it feels like you are stuck

I am the type of person who likes to be in control. I was self-centered and felt the world should revolve around me and my family which consists of my husband, Vince, and our boys, Cody and Kyle. In 2008, I learned that I cannot control the world around me; there is a higher being for that, and to cherish every moment I have with the people I love the most. This story starts in 2000 when my husband received a job machining race motors in Mooresville, North Carolina. This is 20 miles north of

Soft rays of sunlight dance gently across my face leaving patterns in every direction they move. My bedroom walls remind me of you. Days without you by my side are black and white. Dull. I had no friends until you came back into my life. Our time together was magenta. Peaceful. You always knew how to draw me to you, even without meaning to. Chilling. The blue sky that one day when we were nine laying down on the grass at the park, that was the day I first realized I kind of loved you. These same

A warm, translucent jelly was spread across my abdomen. A screen displayed my internal organs, as the technician operating a handheld machine, glided it across my stomach. An ultrasound, something that was unknown and strange to six year old me. My mom explained it as a procedure most pregnant women receive. Once it was completed, the person operating the bizarre machine wiped away the translucent substance and told us we could go. I was dropped off at McFall Elementary where I walked back to Mrs

have only seen twice in the past year: my father. He has given me more than any other single person on this planet. He gave me the desire to do better. He gave me the focus and the hunger to be intellectually curious. He gave me these things because he never had them. My father has been in and out of prison since April 29th, 2011. He gave me an understanding of adult life at far too young an age, and he left me with trust issues. He gave me the only prominent memory from my elementary school years: