My First Memory :: First Person Narrative Examples

There's always one life-altering, mind-blowing, view-changing point in human existence when memory starts. The first substantial memory I hold in my memorial arsenal is the memory of a play day outside with my oldest brother. I remember this day like it were yesterday; the healthy, cared for grass was green as money; the sun was shining like the face of a newly made contest-winning billionaire. My brother and I were masters of outside play, just like a sensei is master to his students. My oldest brother, Sam, was a gorilla of a brother. He was big, bulky and much of the time, mean. Sam beat me at every game we played. He beat me at anything from toy cars to basketball. Sam was an earth-conquering tyrant. The only thing was that I was Sam's earth to conquer. However, today had a different course of events in store; I was bound to alter history this day. Shortly after returning from a Boy Scout campout; Sam was still in an adventurous, scout-like, kick-Ted's-Butt mood. He was going to teach me to play capture the flag. Capture the flag was a game that I could do well in and proceed past my brother's performance, therefore dethroning him and his dominant rule. I was crystal clear on how to play this game and now it was time to play. I looked high and low for a superexcellent, well-camouflaged hiding place for my flag. I needed a hiding place that Sam would never find, never even think of. The nook I decided on was the best ever; my flag was never to be found. Sam's as pirations were hopeless. The place I decided on was high up in a gum tree. After I hid my flag, the game was on and I expedited out for Sam's flag. Our yard was the only thing between me and his flag. Our yard, however, was jam-packed with thorny sticker bushes, piney pine bushes, and plenty of pine cones. The journey to his flag was going to be long and strenuous, but I was determined. I started out with a nerve cringing, skin-piercing secretive crawl through the sticker bushes. My passage through the bushes was like a passage through a locust-plagued tunnel. I got through that only to be greeted by a mine field of pine cones. Every step could hold my life in its hands. If I was loud, Sam was sure to hear and come tag me.