Most recent edit on 2005-09-15 16:43:53 by EschaTon
Additions:
Middle school is supposed to be an exciting new step in every child’s life: a time of maturing and moving on to bigger and better things besides recess. For my sixth grade class, it was not only a time of new beginnings for some people but also abrupt ends. Our class endured three deaths that year, thrusting us into the real world a lot more quickly than we were ready for.
It was the Friday before Labor Day, only one week into the new school year. My younger brother and I were in the car with my neighbors on our way to the pool to go swimming. We were heading towards a small bridge not far from our house. I was playing Super Mario on my brother’s Gameboy. (It’s funny how a major event in your life makes you remember the tiniest details.) My neighbor pointed to the side of the road and said, “Hey, look! There’s Bob.” Bob was a boy in my class. He had his backpack on and was walking in the direction of his house. School had already been out for over an hour and it was a long walk from the school to his house. I usually saw him riding the bus home. I glanced up from my game for a second as we passed him and then looked back down. A millisecond later, I heard the horrible screeching of tires and whipped my head around to see Bob lying on the ground. My brother screamed, “I saw it! That car hit Bob! I saw him fly up into the air!” My heart began to race. My neighbor’s mom, Mrs. Nix, stopped the car and told us to stay in it. She got out to try to help but many people were already gathering around him. I caught a glimpse of his motionless body, twisted in ways it shouldn’t be, and tears sprang up burning in the back of my eyes. Mrs. Nix got back in the car and said that paramedics were on the way. We left the scene to go to the pool, though I knew there was no way I could enjoy myself or get the horrible sight I just witnessed out of my mind. While we were at the pool, I overheard Mrs. Nix talking to some of the other adults about it. After hearing her say something about blood coming from Bob’s ears and mouth, I didn’t want to listen any more.
That night[,] when I got home my parents told me that Bob died on his way to the hospital. My mom looked into my eyes as if trying to read what I was thinking. I was the type of quiet kid that kept to myself and scarcely showed my emotions. She must have been able to tell that I was upset because she leaned in and gave me a hug. Somehow, being in the safety of her warm embrace made me feel better. Then I did something that I would have never really considered before. I just opened up and told her about the whole scene I witnessed and how I was feeling. Talking with her seemed to alleviate some of the stress I was feeling. At school on Tuesday everyone was talking about Bob. The worst part was that hardly any of my classmates ever got to know Bob. He was the kind of kid that stood in the corner by himself at lunch reading a book. People thought he was kind of weird and dorky so nobody bothered to talk to him. The teachers gathered the school into the auditorium for an assembly. The principal, Dr. Rose, said a few things and our guidance counselor told us if we needed to talk to someone she was there. There were rumors floating around that Bob purposely flung himself infront of the car. When I heard this, I was irritated that people would go around creating gossip about him. I regret that for the short time Bob was here with us I never talked to him. A simple “Hey, how ya doin’[?]” could make a world of difference in someone’s life but now noone had a chance or would ever get one. I now realize how important it is to not take life for granted. [this is cliched and doesn't really work for your narrative] Something you have one day could be gone the next.
The second death during this year occurred a couple months after Bob’s. It seemed like a normal day as I arrived at school[,] until a friend came up to me in homeroom and relayed some incredibly disturbing news. In a low tone she whispered, “Aaron committed suicide. He hung himself from a tree in his backyard.” A million things raced through my mind. A twelve-year old killing himself? What could be going on in his life that was so horrible he had to end it at twelve years old? I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be Aaron’s mom and look out the back window to see your son dangling from a tree by his neck. Aaron was completely different from Bob. He had many friends[,] and I had talked to him quite a few times. He sat behind me in English class. It was hard to believe that just the day before he was sitting there chatting with me[,] and now I would never see him again. The school was gathered once more into the auditorium to discuss his death. The seventh and eighth graders were there also[,] but it was directed more towards our class[,] because we had grown up with him and known him since first grade. The guidance counselor talked again saying the same basic things she said when Bob died. That day after school, two of my closest friends came over. We were just sitting around painting our nails when my one friend, Stephanie, burst into tears out of nowhere. I glanced at my other friend, not knowing what to do. Stephanie was closer to Aaron than either of us. We both ran over to console her. I suggested that we go to her favorite icecream store, which seemed to take her mind off of it for a while. Aaron’s death came up completely unexpected and noone could understand why he did it. To this day I have no idea what made him think he had to end it [,] and I’m sure it still baffles my classmates too.
It had been a very emotional year for all of us. Coping with three deaths so close together was the toughest thing many of us ever had to go through at this point in our lives. When entering sixth grade none of us had ever imagined we would learn so much about life in that one year, but it also made us realize how important it is to have close family and friends to be able to look to for support. [ -> and? ... This conclusion really leaves your narrative hanging. Should try to connect the ideas of your initial paragraph (about things beginning and ending) into this conclusion.]
[Overall, this is an excellent paper. Has some minor comma usage problems and some problems with detail choice @ the opening]
Deletions:
Middle school is supposed to be an exciting new step in every child’s life: a time of maturing and moving on to bigger and better things besides recess. For my sixth grade class, it was not only a time of new beginnings for some people but also abrupt ends. Our class endured three deaths that year, thrusting us into the real world a lot more quickly than we were ready for.
It was the Friday before Labor Day, only one week into the new school year. My younger brother and I were in the car with my neighbors on our way to the pool to go swimming. We were heading towards a small bridge not far from our house. I was playing Super Mario on my brother’s Gameboy. (It’s funny how a major event in your life makes you remember the tiniest details.) My neighbor pointed to the side of the road and said, “Hey, look! There’s Bob.” Bob was a boy in my class. He had his backpack on and was walking in the direction of his house. School had already been out for over an hour and it was a long walk from the school to his house. I usually saw him riding the bus home. I glanced up from my game for a second as we passed him and then looked back down. A millisecond later, I heard the horrible screeching of tires and whipped my head around to see Bob lying on the ground. My brother screamed, “I saw it! That car hit Bob! I saw him fly up into the air!” My heart began to race. My neighbor’s mom, Mrs. Nix, stopped the car and told us to stay in it. She got out to try to help but many people were already gathering around him. I caught a glimpse of his motionless body, twisted in ways it shouldn’t be, and tears sprang up burning in the back of my eyes. Mrs. Nix got back in the car and said that paramedics were on the way. We left the scene to go to the pool, though I knew there was no way I could enjoy myself or get the horrible sight I just witnessed out of my mind. While we were at the pool, I overheard Mrs. Nix talking to some of the other adults about it. After hearing her say something about blood coming from Bob’s ears and mouth, I didn’t want to listen any more.
That night when I got home my parents told me that Bob died on his way to the hospital. My mom looked into my eyes as if trying to read what I was thinking. I was the type of quiet kid that kept to myself and scarcely showed my emotions. She must have been able to tell that I was upset because she leaned in and gave me a hug. Somehow, being in the safety of her warm embrace made me feel better. Then I did something that I would have never really considered before. I just opened up and told her about the whole scene I witnessed and how I was feeling. Talking with her seemed to alleviate some of the stress I was feeling. At school on Tuesday everyone was talking about Bob. The worst part was that hardly any of my classmates ever got to know Bob. He was the kind of kid that stood in the corner by himself at lunch reading a book. People thought he was kind of weird and dorky so nobody bothered to talk to him. The teachers gathered the school into the auditorium for an assembly. The principal, Dr. Rose, said a few things and our guidance counselor told us if we needed to talk to someone she was there. There were rumors floating around that Bob purposely flung himself infront of the car. When I heard this, I was irritated that people would go around creating gossip about him. I regret that for the short time Bob was here with us I never talked to him. A simple “Hey, how ya doin’” could make a world of difference in someone’s life but now noone had a chance or would ever get one. I now realize how important it is to not take life for granted. Something you have one day could be gone the next.
The second death during this year occurred a couple months after Bob’s. It seemed like a normal day as I arrived at school until a friend came up to me in homeroom and relayed some incredibly disturbing news. In a low tone she whispered, “Aaron committed suicide. He hung himself from a tree in his backyard.” A million things raced through my mind. A twelve-year old killing himself? What could be going on in his life that was so horrible he had to end it at twelve years old? I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be Aaron’s mom and look out the back window to see your son dangling from a tree by his neck. Aaron was completely different from Bob. He had many friends and I had talked to him quite a few times. He sat behind me in English class. It was hard to believe that just the day before he was sitting there chatting with me and now I would never see him again. The school was gathered once more into the auditorium to discuss his death. The seventh and eighth graders were there also but it was directed more towards our class because we had grown up with him and known him since first grade. The guidance counselor talked again saying the same basic things she said when Bob died. That day after school, two of my closest friends came over. We were just sitting around painting our nails when my one friend, Stephanie, burst into tears out of nowhere. I glanced at my other friend, not knowing what to do. Stephanie was closer to Aaron than either of us. We both ran over to console her. I suggested that we go to her favorite icecream store, which seemed to take her mind off of it for a while. Aaron’s death came up completely unexpected and noone could understand why he did it. To this day I have no idea what made him think he had to end it and I’m sure it still baffles my classmates too.
It had been a very emotional year for all of us. Coping with three deaths so close together was the toughest thing many of us ever had to go through at this point in our lives. When entering sixth grade none of us had ever imagined we would learn so much about life in that one year, but it also made us realize how important it is to have close family and friends to be able to look to for support.
Edited on 2005-09-09 09:18:52 by StarBurst
Additions:
Middle school is supposed to be an exciting new step in every child’s life: a time of maturing and moving on to bigger and better things besides recess. For my sixth grade class, it was not only a time of new beginnings for some people but also abrupt ends. Our class endured three deaths that year, thrusting us into the real world a lot more quickly than we were ready for.
It was the Friday before Labor Day, only one week into the new school year. My younger brother and I were in the car with my neighbors on our way to the pool to go swimming. We were heading towards a small bridge not far from our house. I was playing Super Mario on my brother’s Gameboy. (It’s funny how a major event in your life makes you remember the tiniest details.) My neighbor pointed to the side of the road and said, “Hey, look! There’s Bob.” Bob was a boy in my class. He had his backpack on and was walking in the direction of his house. School had already been out for over an hour and it was a long walk from the school to his house. I usually saw him riding the bus home. I glanced up from my game for a second as we passed him and then looked back down. A millisecond later, I heard the horrible screeching of tires and whipped my head around to see Bob lying on the ground. My brother screamed, “I saw it! That car hit Bob! I saw him fly up into the air!” My heart began to race. My neighbor’s mom, Mrs. Nix, stopped the car and told us to stay in it. She got out to try to help but many people were already gathering around him. I caught a glimpse of his motionless body, twisted in ways it shouldn’t be, and tears sprang up burning in the back of my eyes. Mrs. Nix got back in the car and said that paramedics were on the way. We left the scene to go to the pool, though I knew there was no way I could enjoy myself or get the horrible sight I just witnessed out of my mind. While we were at the pool, I overheard Mrs. Nix talking to some of the other adults about it. After hearing her say something about blood coming from Bob’s ears and mouth, I didn’t want to listen any more.
That night when I got home my parents told me that Bob died on his way to the hospital. My mom looked into my eyes as if trying to read what I was thinking. I was the type of quiet kid that kept to myself and scarcely showed my emotions. She must have been able to tell that I was upset because she leaned in and gave me a hug. Somehow, being in the safety of her warm embrace made me feel better. Then I did something that I would have never really considered before. I just opened up and told her about the whole scene I witnessed and how I was feeling. Talking with her seemed to alleviate some of the stress I was feeling. At school on Tuesday everyone was talking about Bob. The worst part was that hardly any of my classmates ever got to know Bob. He was the kind of kid that stood in the corner by himself at lunch reading a book. People thought he was kind of weird and dorky so nobody bothered to talk to him. The teachers gathered the school into the auditorium for an assembly. The principal, Dr. Rose, said a few things and our guidance counselor told us if we needed to talk to someone she was there. There were rumors floating around that Bob purposely flung himself infront of the car. When I heard this, I was irritated that people would go around creating gossip about him. I regret that for the short time Bob was here with us I never talked to him. A simple “Hey, how ya doin’” could make a world of difference in someone’s life but now noone had a chance or would ever get one. I now realize how important it is to not take life for granted. Something you have one day could be gone the next.
The second death during this year occurred a couple months after Bob’s. It seemed like a normal day as I arrived at school until a friend came up to me in homeroom and relayed some incredibly disturbing news. In a low tone she whispered, “Aaron committed suicide. He hung himself from a tree in his backyard.” A million things raced through my mind. A twelve-year old killing himself? What could be going on in his life that was so horrible he had to end it at twelve years old? I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be Aaron’s mom and look out the back window to see your son dangling from a tree by his neck. Aaron was completely different from Bob. He had many friends and I had talked to him quite a few times. He sat behind me in English class. It was hard to believe that just the day before he was sitting there chatting with me and now I would never see him again. The school was gathered once more into the auditorium to discuss his death. The seventh and eighth graders were there also but it was directed more towards our class because we had grown up with him and known him since first grade. The guidance counselor talked again saying the same basic things she said when Bob died. That day after school, two of my closest friends came over. We were just sitting around painting our nails when my one friend, Stephanie, burst into tears out of nowhere. I glanced at my other friend, not knowing what to do. Stephanie was closer to Aaron than either of us. We both ran over to console her. I suggested that we go to her favorite icecream store, which seemed to take her mind off of it for a while. Aaron’s death came up completely unexpected and noone could understand why he did it. To this day I have no idea what made him think he had to end it and I’m sure it still baffles my classmates too.
As the year slowly trudged on the students gradually got word that our principal had leukemia. After many months passed, we were told that he was recovering. We were used to never seeing him at school any more. One Sunday I was watching television when my mom came into the room and broke the news to me. Dr. Rose had died over the weekend. I was stunned. I didn’t understand. Last I knew he was getting better. I had a strange feeling the rest of the day. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. The next day at school, we were gathered for a third time in the auditorium. For those students who hadn’t found out yet, they knew meeting in the auditorium these days meant nothing good. The teachers talked about Dr. Rose and the band played one of his favorite songs. I looked around and noticed many of my classmates crying.
It had been a very emotional year for all of us. Coping with three deaths so close together was the toughest thing many of us ever had to go through at this point in our lives. When entering sixth grade none of us had ever imagined we would learn so much about life in that one year, but it also made us realize how important it is to have close family and friends to be able to look to for support.
Deletions:
Middle school is supposed to be an exciting new step in every child’s life: a time of maturing and moving on to bigger and better things besides recess. For my sixth grade class, it was not only a time of new beginnings for some people but also abrupt ends. Our class endured three deaths that year, thrusting us into the real world a lot more quickly than we were ready for.
It was the Friday before Labor Day, only one week into the new school year. My younger brother and I were in the car with my neighbors on our way to the pool to go swimming. We were heading towards a small bridge not far from our house. I was playing Super Mario on my brother’s Gameboy. (It’s funny how a major event in your life makes you remember the tiniest details.) My neighbor pointed to the side of the road and said, “Hey, look! There’s Bob.” He had his backpack on and was walking in the direction of his house. School had already been out for over an hour and and it was a long walk from the school to his house. I usually saw him riding the bus home. I glanced up from my game for a second as we passed him and then looked back down. A millisecond later, I heard the horrible screeching of tires and whipped my head around to see Bob lying on the ground. My brother screamed, “I saw it! That car hit Bob! I saw him fly up into the air!” My heart began to race. My neighbor’s mom, Mrs. Nix, stopped the car and told us to stay in it. She got out to try to help but many people were already gathering around him. I caught a glimpse of his motionless body, twisted in ways it shouldn’t be, and tears sprang up burning in the back of my eyes. Mrs. Nix got back in the car and said that paramedics were on the way. We left the scene to go to the pool, though I knew there was no way I could enjoy myself or get the horrible sight I just witnessed out of my mind. While we were at the pool, I overheard Mrs. Nix talking to some of the other adults about it. After hearing her say something about blood coming from Bob’s ears and mouth, I didn’t want to listen any more.
That night when I got home my parents told me that Bob died on his way to the hospital. My mom looked into my eyes as if trying to read what I was thinking. I was the type of quiet kid that kept to myself and scarecely showed my emotions. She must have been able to tell that I was upset because she leaned in and gave me a hug. Somehow, being in the safety of her warm embrace made me feel better. Then I did something that I would have never really considered before. I just opened up and told her about the whole scene I witnessed and how I was feeling. Talking with her seemed to alleviate some of the stress I was feeling. At school on Tuesday everyone was talking about Bob. The worst part was that hardly any of my classmates ever got to know Bob. He was the kind of kid that stood in the corner by himself at lunch reading a book. People thought he was kind of weird and dorky so nobody bothered to talk to him. The teachers gathered the school into the auditorium for an assembly. The principal, Dr. Rose, said a few things and our guidance counselor told us if we needed to talk to someone she was there. There were rumors floating around that Bob purposely flung himself infront of the car. When I heard this, I was irritated that people would go around creating gossip about him. I regret that for the short time Bob was here with us I didn’t ever talk to him. A simple “Hey, how ya doin’” could make a world of difference in someone’s life but now noone had a chance or would ever get one. I now realize how important it is to not take life for granted. Something you have one day could be gone the next.
The second death during this year occurred a couple months after Bob’s. It seemed like a normal day as I arrived at school until a friend came up to me in homeroom and relayed some incredibly disturbing news. In a low tone she whispered, “Aaron committed suicide. He hung himself from a tree in his backyard.” A million things raced through my mind. A twelve-year old killing himself? What could be going on in his life that was so horrible he had to end it at twelve years old? I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be Aaron’s mom and look out the back window to see your son dangling from a tree by his neck. Aaron was completely different from Bob. He had many friends and I had talked to him quite a few times. He sat behind me in English class. It was hard to believe that just the day before he was sitting there chatting with me and now I would never see him again. The school was gathered once more into the auditorium to discuss his death. The seventh and eighth graders were there also but it was directed more towards our class because we had grown up with him and known him since first grade. The guidance counselor talked again saying the same basic things she said when Bob died. That day after school, two of my closest friends came over. We were just sitting around painting our nails when my one friend, Stephanie, burst into tears out of nowhere. I glanced at my other friend, not knowing what to do. Stephanie was closer to Aaron than either of us. We both ran over to console her. I suggested that we go to her favorite icecream store, which seemed to take her mind off of it for a while. Aaron’s death came up completely unexpected and noone could understand why he did it. To this day I have no idea made him think he had to end it and I’m sure it still baffles my classmates too.
As the year slowly trudged on the students gradually got word that our principal had leukemia. After many months passed, we were told that he was recovering. We were used to never seeing him at school any more. One Sunday I was watching television when my mom came into the room and broke the news to me. Dr. Rose had died over the weekend. I was stunned. I didn’t understand. Last I knew he was getting better. I had a strange feeling the rest of the day. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. The next day at school, we were gathered for a third time in the auditorium. For those students who hadn’t found out yet, they knew meeting in the auditorium these days meant nothing good. The teachers talked about Dr. Rose and the band played one of his favorite songs. I looked around and noticed many of my classmates crying.
It had been a very emotional year for all of us. Coping with three deaths so close together was the toughest thing many of us ever had to go through at this point in our lives. When entering sixth grade none of us had ever imagined we would learn so much about life in that one year, but it also made us realize how important it is to have close family and friends to be able to look to for support.
Oldest known version of this page was edited on 2005-09-08 22:54:07 by StarBurst []
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My Narrative
Middle school is supposed to be an exciting new step in every child’s life: a time of maturing and moving on to bigger and better things besides recess. For my sixth grade class, it was not only a time of new beginnings for some people but also abrupt ends. Our class endured three deaths that year, thrusting us into the real world a lot more quickly than we were ready for.
It was the Friday before Labor Day, only one week into the new school year. My younger brother and I were in the car with my neighbors on our way to the pool to go swimming. We were heading towards a small bridge not far from our house. I was playing Super Mario on my brother’s Gameboy. (It’s funny how a major event in your life makes you remember the tiniest details.) My neighbor pointed to the side of the road and said, “Hey, look! There’s Bob.” He had his backpack on and was walking in the direction of his house. School had already been out for over an hour and and it was a long walk from the school to his house. I usually saw him riding the bus home. I glanced up from my game for a second as we passed him and then looked back down. A millisecond later, I heard the horrible screeching of tires and whipped my head around to see Bob lying on the ground. My brother screamed, “I saw it! That car hit Bob! I saw him fly up into the air!” My heart began to race. My neighbor’s mom, Mrs. Nix, stopped the car and told us to stay in it. She got out to try to help but many people were already gathering around him. I caught a glimpse of his motionless body, twisted in ways it shouldn’t be, and tears sprang up burning in the back of my eyes. Mrs. Nix got back in the car and said that paramedics were on the way. We left the scene to go to the pool, though I knew there was no way I could enjoy myself or get the horrible sight I just witnessed out of my mind. While we were at the pool, I overheard Mrs. Nix talking to some of the other adults about it. After hearing her say something about blood coming from Bob’s ears and mouth, I didn’t want to listen any more.
That night when I got home my parents told me that Bob died on his way to the hospital. My mom looked into my eyes as if trying to read what I was thinking. I was the type of quiet kid that kept to myself and scarecely showed my emotions. She must have been able to tell that I was upset because she leaned in and gave me a hug. Somehow, being in the safety of her warm embrace made me feel better. Then I did something that I would have never really considered before. I just opened up and told her about the whole scene I witnessed and how I was feeling. Talking with her seemed to alleviate some of the stress I was feeling. At school on Tuesday everyone was talking about Bob. The worst part was that hardly any of my classmates ever got to know Bob. He was the kind of kid that stood in the corner by himself at lunch reading a book. People thought he was kind of weird and dorky so nobody bothered to talk to him. The teachers gathered the school into the auditorium for an assembly. The principal, Dr. Rose, said a few things and our guidance counselor told us if we needed to talk to someone she was there. There were rumors floating around that Bob purposely flung himself infront of the car. When I heard this, I was irritated that people would go around creating gossip about him. I regret that for the short time Bob was here with us I didn’t ever talk to him. A simple “Hey, how ya doin’” could make a world of difference in someone’s life but now noone had a chance or would ever get one. I now realize how important it is to not take life for granted. Something you have one day could be gone the next.
The second death during this year occurred a couple months after Bob’s. It seemed like a normal day as I arrived at school until a friend came up to me in homeroom and relayed some incredibly disturbing news. In a low tone she whispered, “Aaron committed suicide. He hung himself from a tree in his backyard.” A million things raced through my mind. A twelve-year old killing himself? What could be going on in his life that was so horrible he had to end it at twelve years old? I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be Aaron’s mom and look out the back window to see your son dangling from a tree by his neck. Aaron was completely different from Bob. He had many friends and I had talked to him quite a few times. He sat behind me in English class. It was hard to believe that just the day before he was sitting there chatting with me and now I would never see him again. The school was gathered once more into the auditorium to discuss his death. The seventh and eighth graders were there also but it was directed more towards our class because we had grown up with him and known him since first grade. The guidance counselor talked again saying the same basic things she said when Bob died. That day after school, two of my closest friends came over. We were just sitting around painting our nails when my one friend, Stephanie, burst into tears out of nowhere. I glanced at my other friend, not knowing what to do. Stephanie was closer to Aaron than either of us. We both ran over to console her. I suggested that we go to her favorite icecream store, which seemed to take her mind off of it for a while. Aaron’s death came up completely unexpected and noone could understand why he did it. To this day I have no idea made him think he had to end it and I’m sure it still baffles my classmates too.
As the year slowly trudged on the students gradually got word that our principal had leukemia. After many months passed, we were told that he was recovering. We were used to never seeing him at school any more. One Sunday I was watching television when my mom came into the room and broke the news to me. Dr. Rose had died over the weekend. I was stunned. I didn’t understand. Last I knew he was getting better. I had a strange feeling the rest of the day. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. The next day at school, we were gathered for a third time in the auditorium. For those students who hadn’t found out yet, they knew meeting in the auditorium these days meant nothing good. The teachers talked about Dr. Rose and the band played one of his favorite songs. I looked around and noticed many of my classmates crying.
It had been a very emotional year for all of us. Coping with three deaths so close together was the toughest thing many of us ever had to go through at this point in our lives. When entering sixth grade none of us had ever imagined we would learn so much about life in that one year, but it also made us realize how important it is to have close family and friends to be able to look to for support.