Browsing Biography & Memoir on deviantART

[x]

Umm... Hi. So, I was flipping Umm... Hi. So, I was flipping through old things on my computer from middle school, and I came across a memoir about my Grandpa I wrote when I was in Grade seven, and after reading it started to cry. Then, I wanted to find my mark for this. I looked around and ended up finding it. It was 104%, which really isn't possible. But it was out of 25, and my teacher gave me a extra mark. My LA teacher at the time even submitted it to the yearbook! It got in, too!
So, enough chit-chat! HERE IT IS:

Goodbye

Uncomfortable silence filled the car.
“Umm… Is he going to be okay?”
“I-I… don’t know.”
The awkwUmm... Hi. So, I was flipping 3 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Whiplash"Whiplash"

It was a rather ordinary day when it hit me, mid-step and without warning. I'm not quite sure what sparked the memory. There must have been some environmental trigger that evoked my subconscious, allowing me one of those rare insights into the depths of memory, opening my mind to delve into matters of the past that were so far gone, I wasn't aware that I had forgotten them. It caused world to stop turning for a moment and the colors around me to blur together like a van Gogh. The air in my lungs was in a strange state if equilibrium, neither moving in nor flooding out, but I found myself too shocked to want for oxygen. My fooWhiplash6 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

My Life from Then to Now. [[PERSONAL]]my life from then and now

I’m graduating so, I wanted to look back at my life.

Some things may be vague, if not extremely vague. That’s because certain things are better left untold.

Reason I’m doing this? I think people don’t understand how much I’ve changed through the years. How much different I was seven years ago. The Nikki I am today is striking compared to the old Nikki. The new people in my life don’t know it either. So why not tell? Plus I’m graduating. It’s nice to look back and remember this stuff. And honestly, I just feel like writing it. I don’t do this often. Don’t My Life from Then to Now. [[PERSONAL]]8 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Murder in the First, Second, and ThirdThe first time it happened, she was drunk.

Kissing in his bed, hands locked on his face, how difficult would it be? Phone on the bedside, the password his year of birth and high school jersey number and all she’d have to say was that he was going to spend a few days at her place. His roommates would be disappointed but not surprised. Break your heart, break your heart, that girl’ll break your heart. But none of them would count on this, no one would notice until he didn’t call his father or the unfamiliar smell of human death crept into every reach of the apartment. Keys in his pocket, cutting into her thigh, she could takeMurder in the First, Second, and Third9 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

My cat's sad story - Please read and helpOnce upon a time there was a rainy summer day. Near to the Danube, like every summer, me and my family were in our little summer house. Every year there are tons of stray cats there searching for food and places where somebody finally give them love. Almost black or grey cats. But on that day, on that sad stromy day a little desperated white kitten came to our garden. My mother realised the little thing. My mom's friend was also there and he said he just had painted some cats from black to white. My parents laughed and they brought me the little pet. I was watching TV. By the way I was 11. Waiting for high school* I was full of happiness and My cat's sad story - Please read and help12 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Valla mejor amiga.Estaba tranquila chateando con las chicas, y laura estaba haciendo su tarea en un costado de mi cama. Todo iva bien hasta que Mari empezo a insultar a las chicas, mi enojo llego hasta un punto. Con rabia tire mi portatil en el piso, laura se avia sobre saltado, le dije que iria a matar a Mari, Laura me discutia diciendo que estaba muy debil como para salir de la cama, y yo solo le dije "Mari la insulto" ella me solto, y me fui lo mas rapido que pude pero me cai en el pasillo, Gabriel aparecio detras mio y me alzo en su hombro.

Gabriel: para donde mi señora?
Yo: a la cochera, iremos a por Mariene.

Fuimos a la cochera, Albaro iva a conValla mejor amiga.13 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

La moufetteLa moufette

L'histoire qui suit est authentique, seuls les noms et les lieux ont été changés. Cette histoire c'est la mienne mais c'est aussi l'histoire d'une amie et d'un même traumatisme, une épreuve que nous avons subi ensemble mais traversé de deux manières différentes.

Chapitre 1

Je m'appelle Jeff et je suis né il y a 29 ans à la Truffière, la Truffe pour les initiés, un village d'à peine 300 habitants perdu au cœur de la campagne vendéenne. Les premières années de ma vie sont sans réel intérêt, je vLa moufette16 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Thoughts on GrowingDriving in the car with my friend, we've been friends for a short time; three years in fact and despite this she had taught me some of life's most valuable lessons. On the way home, there is laughter and talking, more laughing and the unannounced pause to listen to the radio. She turns to me, I highly advised that she didn't since I was in the back seat and her eyes should have been on the road, but still; she turns to me and tells me as plain as day "I'm scared of growing up."
Too many thoughts and feelings came rushing to mind, confusion, empathy, anxiety; but the most striking fact was that in my mind; up until she said those words; I wasThoughts on Growing16 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

With a Closet Full of Froot Loops(Just for starters, I’d like to mention that I’ve never gotten around to reading Stephen King’s "The Stand" and have only seen portions of the miniseries, just for the record.)
When I first watched Part One (the part about the plague), I was working on my Biology homework one evening. I had had a fairly sheltered childhood up to about my last year-and-a-half of high school, and that was one of the most gruesome things I had ever seen in my life. The images lingered and haunted me in my sleep…
…I stand on a street in my childhood home of Lakeside. MT, with a bunch of zombie people shuffling around. After days of rioting and looting, the streets are a shambles, and the sick, dying people no longer have the energy to riot any longer. As if most of the cops are even alive to fight them anymore. What few are still alive, realizing that they’re screwed anyway, shuffle around with the rest of the dying.
I, however, am perfectly healthy, andWith a Closet Full of Froot Loops18 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Homestuck OC Bio: Cyfres NarranSo, me and my sister decided to make a new OC troll since my batch lacks a few other blood colors. So meet the new, tree-themed OC, Cyfres Narran!
Cyfres Narran
Title: Prince of Time (since my batch lacked a time player)
Age: 6 Alternian Solar Sweeps (13 human years)
Blood color: http://knuckles009.deviantart.com/art/OC-Trolls-updated-Hemospectrum-373120768
Font color: Red orange (will explain why later on)
Trollian Handle: chlorophyllTerritory
Typing Style:
Pre-/Post-Sgrub: Perfect grammar, syntax and punctuation. Avoids using 'foul language'. capitalizes L, E, A and F.
Ex. Oh, Look REssAL! WhAt A bEAutifuL forEst!
God Tier: all lowerHomestuck OC Bio: Cyfres Narran20 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Two am.Two am is not a time for lovers, I know this now. Two am is for the lonely. Two am is when the car starts on the third try, when the turning of the engine sounds like a tear in the universe. It is when the road opens up in front of you, bowlegged and bare, and you turn off your headlights to let the night air bleed in.

Two am is for jumping the fence and smoking cigarettes on swing sets from your childhood while somewhere in the distance the lost lights of airplanes blink at you, on and off.

Two am is when the traffic lights switch over to flashing amber beams and the memory of your ex-lover's curves burn themselves into your fingertips, inTwo am.22 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Why?Why does Monday come before Tuesday?
Why do Summers start in June?
Why do Winters come too soon?
Why do flowers come in May?
Why does Spring go away?
Why do people fall in love?
Why do we love if love will die?
Tell me: Why do I love you?

Why do the rivers flow to the sea?
If rivers flow; Why can't your love go through me,
Why does my mind feels so missed,
To be in love,
To feel your love,
Why don't I feel complete?Why?1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

Me and my incapability to forgive myself

Hello. My name is Karen. I'm Canadian, French and Japanese. I live with my family: a dad, a mom and an older brother. They're all really busy. My passion is drawing, writing and listening. I like watching movies and playing games. I like to study the human brain and their behavior. I do not talk much but I like listening to others. My weakness is the incapability to forgive myself...

I love everyone on earth. Even the criminals because I take the time to understand what they went through and their reasons, therefor, I can forgive them. I understand that no living human is perfect, therefor, I forgive everyone. For this reason, everyone callsMe and my incapability to forgive myself1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

New Series - Tale of the Enchanted KeysThis is my new enchanted series, "Tale of the Enchanted Keys".

In This Series - In the dead of the night, a girl named Ariel, is performing a ritual when an intruder, a cat named Shadow, interrupts her. She tries the spell again and Shadow knocks several potion bottles off of a shelf. As Ariel looks on in shock, Shadow turns into a warlock and turns her into a zombie. Meanwhile, famous fairytale writer Ethan Prince gives girly protagonist of the series Ellen Princess his typewriter and magic keys, and she begins writing everything. Trisha King, who is seen reading one of Prince's books, reports that there are creatures attacking farmland neaNew Series - Tale of the Enchanted Keys1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

Comments Disabled

Confined EnvironmentMy bedroom is very similar to an insane asylum room, it is exactly 2 metres wide and two metres long.
From the floor to the ceiling it is just under 3 metres, I am only able to fit a bed, wardrobe and shelves into my room, though luckily there is just enough space to fit a PC monitor and cables down the side of my bed.
The shelves are filled with Xbox games, DVD's and a 2 framed photographs; one photograph has been autographed by my favourite comedian, Lee Evans, and the other photograph is a of a my granddad playing at Arsenal Stadium in 1955, the game was Islington V Brighton, which is funny since Brighton now are by far the better team out of the 2, but that must have been a proud moment for my granddad, playing for his home town.
I forgot to mention that the shelves also have CD's on them, mostly music people wouldn't listen too. Except for maybe a few exceptions. The of CD's off the top of my head are mostly all Bob Dylan, though some do stand out, like the SteConfined Environment1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

BleakI thought I’d already experienced the darkest, bleakest time of my life – Christmas 2012. I was coming home from work and bursting into tears. I couldn’t cope with the smallest amount of stress or pressure. I felt like I was falling to pieces and so, turning to my doctor, I was signed off work 2 weeks before the Christmas holidays.

It took a long time to recover. Christmas was bleak, I spent most of my time in bed as sleep was my only escape from the pain of the depression, and held little joy or interest for me. I went through all the motions and did the usual things but inside I just felt hollow and empty. I didn’t Bleak1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

Just Like WineI ran as fast as I could up my driveway when I returned home from school. I hadn't had the best of days, to say the least. It was raining at the time, and I wanted to get inside as soon as possible.

It wasn't until I reached my doorstep that I asked myself, What am I doing?

I don't know how the idea came into my head. I don't know why I carried it out. Regardless, I threw on shorts and a t-shirt and sprinted to my back door. I didn't cast the umbrella in the corner even a glance as I stood at the clear glass separating me from the outside world. Water was cascading like a waterfall down from my gutter and it was raining normally beyond thatJust Like Wine1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

A Memory Awake

I've heard it said that memories are a form of forgetting. If this is true, what does that mean for my first memory?

Do you know what your first memory is?

I only know mine because I took the time to find it. I started with my birthdays. I remember my third birthday. Mostly, because of the fantastic hats that my Aunt Karen made for everyone. Before that, I remember when my brother was born. I was about 2-1/2. Prior to this, I remember my mom constantly chasing after me ~ trying her best to keep me fully clad. It was a losing battle as I recall ~ I stripped down to my birthday suit every chance I got.

After this, it gets a lot more challengA Memory Awake1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

My Grandma was Packing a .45 and a Vibrator

These are the things one finds out when someone dies.

I’m not sure what was more surprising ~ the fact that she was almost 100 and still had the urge or that she was able to operate it on her own. She called my mom almost weekly for help with the remote control.

The thought of anyone going through all of my stuff is mortifying. Why? What do my things really say about me? If a stranger were to go through all of my stuff, would they have the first clue of who I am?

I don’t think so. But, I feel the need to ponder that one a little more before I can say one way or the other.

I will tell you this and that is while I greatly value My Grandma was Packing a .45 and a Vibrator1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

22 May 2013I sat in the church, listening.

"Now let us join in a moment of sustained silence."

I bowed my head. That was my church. They didn't call it praying, because not every member believed in prayer. They didn't call it meditation because not every member believed in meditation. So they just called it Sustained Silence.

I liked it that way.

One Sunday, many weeks ago, the Rev led the Sustained Silence with a suggestion, and I continued on with it, every week. It made me feel whole.

I pictured my feet sending roots down into the earth through the floorboards, my toes spreading, lengthening, to taste the rich dirt beneath the building.

Through22 May 20132 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

The Unsinkable Molly Brown

I am a profoundly different person than I would be otherwise because of the animals I’ve had in my life. As a child, Molly Brown helped me experience life in a way that I couldn’t have gotten anywhere else.

Molly Brown was the nicest dog I’ve ever met. She was even nice to cats. She was also really nice to my grandmother’s dog, Paco. He nailed her one weekend when my parents were away. Two months later, she had puppies somewhere between The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family.

Paco was also Molly’s grandfather. And, a whore. That dog may have nailed more broads than Warren Beatty. He lived to be almost 20 yearThe Unsinkable Molly Brown2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

Prosperity and Harm

As I gaze at this photo, I realize how strange it must look to some people, a waist high blue tub, papers lined on the edge, and two men holding a dripping wet child. It was my baptism, I was 10 years old. A year prior I had asked Jesus into my heart and this baptism was the moment when I became a “born-again,” Christian. I was raised in the evangelical protestant Christian Church of the Nazarene, a denomination that came out of the Holiness movement of 19th century America. This denomination believes strongly in “believer’s baptism,” meaning you are baptized after you have accepted Jesus’ salvationProsperity and Harm2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

Show More