Personal Narrative Draft

This is what I originally had as my first draft, but I had some inspiration that will make it a bit shorter and better with dialogue and more description. Plus I will have a better central message that will be clearer. But until i write and post my final draft, here was my so-so first attempt.

The day had finally come. After waiting for three long months, my parents finally stopped being lazy and reserved my skydive jump. My parents for my 18^th birthday gave me the opportunity to go skydiving whenever they reserved it. I had to wait an agonizing three months because of all the crazy events happening in my life like finishing up high school/graduation, getting my Eagle, job etc. But finally they got my spot reserved and began our journey to the border that separates the USA and Mexico. The drive was simple, just an hour and a half drive to through scenic southern California. We finally arrived at the skydive company’s airfield where numerous cars filled their parking lot. My family and me exited the car and went into their main offices to check in and sign boring waivers and such. As I had to sign the copious paperwork, their legal video was playing in the background. It featured this old, boring looking man talking about the legal matters of skydiving. It was so monotonous and looked like it had not been updated since the 1980’s.

Finally the dreary part of this experience was over, and I could now focus and prep my psyche for what was going to take place in the following hours. From the office, the people that were going to skydive had to do little tutorial on what was going to happen during the jump. We practiced the different positions that we needed to be in during certain times of the jump. To my family I bet I looked really dumb, doing things like hip thrusts, lying on the ground with my legs curled in etc. But it was necessary because me and the other people had no skydive experience whatsoever. The person who was teaching us these techniques was, according to my mom, this handsome, attractive Australian guy, who would have even got my mom out to skydive if she knew about him. Now that our training was completed, we got to wait around for our “load” or group turn to go up in the airplanes.

My family and me had to wait for at least an hour and a half before I was able to go, so we were treated to a show of all the people who were ahead of us. Load after load, plane after plane, we watched people and their photographers skydive, pull their parachutes, and touchdown on the ground. But the most amazing thing about watching these people were the professional photographers who would show off as they were coming into land. They would make these dangerous, steep turns right before they land and then make these graceful landings right before they hit the ground. It was astounding to watch them pull off these complex and intricate moves with their parachutes then like a dove, gracefully land on the ground. Finally my name was called within a load, and my mind began to start subtly telling my body that this was a bad idea. I began getting strapped up in my harness, making sure everything was secure so I did not get separated from my instructor or the parachute. My harness was double and triple checked, and then we were off to meet who we would be attached to for the duration of our flight.

My companion name was Carl, and ironically he was from Carlsbad, California. I also met my photographer who was Steve, and together with other pairs of people we began walking out to the plane, which was sitting idly on the runway. Each step brought a wave of anxiety to my brain, as it began to realize that this was something I was really doing. We finally got to the end of the walkway to the welcoming opening in the plane to climb into. Once we were are set and ready to go, the plane began to taxi down the runway at a pace that seemed like a snail’s pace. Finally the plane got to one end of the runway, and began sputtering down the road. The wheels became unglued to the ground, and the plane was in the air.

Foot after foot, we were rising in the air like a bird in the sky. The butterflies were beginning to form within my stomach, and began thinking maybe this was not the best idea in the world. We reached our maximum altitude, and I began to get strapped onto my professional companion, Carl. We were one of the last people to jump, so I watched person after person jump, and become tiny little dots across the sky. We finally waddled together over to the bay door and there I was standing on the edge of a plane over 13,000 feet in the air. My knees grew weak as I was standing there about to jump out of a plane. My last image before we went off was looking into Mexico, and seeing their land and neighborhoods, and how they did not look any different than the US. Whoosh! My instructor decided to do a backflip coming out of the plane without telling me, and I was taken completely by surprise. Then there we were, falling towards the Earth very fast, and it was amazing. We did a couple of little tricks, but mostly I was just enjoying this great feeling I was experiencing. It was just like in “Toy Story” when Buzz Lightyear says he was not flying but “falling, with style.” I was sad when he had to pull the parachute because it ended what I felt was something I wish I could experience everyday. It was one of the greatest experiences and feelings of my life so far, and I believe it has changed me. I now think that I can do anything if I set my mind to it. If I can jump out of a plane, then I can do a lot of things that previously I did not think I could do. I believe it helped me grow up, and make me feel more like and adult and a man.