Death Of A Girl-Personal Narrative

I wait at the door. I put on my solemn, grim face, I cannot let these children see me as a soft women. I am anything but that, well I guess I am, but we all need to hide our inner emotions some how. My useless husband, Hans, mumbles, “I see the car”. We step outside, most people think Hans and I are crazy for opening our home to these two children, but every little bit of money that we can earn helps. Plus, they can help with the laundry, I think and smile.

I read the paper as Melinda hands it back to me it says “I didn’t call the cops to break up the party, I called them because some guy raped me. Under the trees.I didn’t know what to do. I was stupid and drunk and didn’t know what was happening and he raped me. When the police came, everyone was screaming, and I was too scared, so I cut through some backyards and walked home.” I hate myself right now I ditched our friendship because she broke up the party and almost got me arrested. I didn’t even listen to what her side was. I swore that I’d never be her friend again when I should’ve. No wonder why she’s changed so much.

Losing a loved one is a hard thing, it tears you down and break you into a million tiny pieces that can ever be but together the same way again and although you try to forget the pain it will always haunt you for the rest of your life. Death is something that leaves a mark in your life and can never be forgotten because it's forever ingrained in your heart.

Gone. My beloved Bess is gone. No longer living, lifeless and cold. She is gone. I am no longer able to give her the prize that still rests in my pocket of my velvet coat, yearning to be opened to see her beautiful black eyes light up with joy. I just wanted to see her smile glow in the yellow gold light, but it cost her a life. My Bess, I already miss everything about her. From the way she ever so elegantly plaited a love-knots into her luscious, long black hair, to the way she made me feel. My arms are restless, longing for her little body, missing the way her beautiful body perfectly rested in my arms. Why did she do it?

Today my mom was murdered. Our doorman, Stuart, found her in our apartment. It was strange to hear someone was murdered in New York but when it's your mom it is even harder. My sister, Maria, doesn't even know, and I don't want to be the one to tell her. I had to drop out of college to take care of Maria and not having someone else to help will be a challenge but I am willing to face it.

Laurel lifted her hand to her head, which she ran slowly over the top of her head. She kept her hand on top of her head for a few moments, a sigh escaped her lips. Her head tilted from side to side, as she thought of those that left her here. She wasn’t sure if they left her her for dead or not, there was no way for her to know for sure. A frown spread across her face. She closed her eye as she took in a deep breath, which she exhaled slowly. Her eyes slowly open as she shook her head from, her head lightly nodding. She dropped her hand from her head and placed it against her hip.

It was 5 A.M. and my thoughts were everywhere. I kept tossing and turning, desperately trying to fall asleep, but knowing I couldn't. I finally slipped out of bed, carefully so that I wouldn't wake up Olivia, and proceeded to walk down the stairs. I sat down on the living room couch and exhaled deeply as I stared into the sunroof.

Does that make you think that her heart gave up? That she gave up? No, you would be wrong to think so. She was indeed broken but she was

She lifted her head up and looked me in the eyes for the first time tonight. Her large, dark eyes captured me like a fish on a hook. Her eyes cried out pain and loneliness and seemed to see through my superficial persona.

She moved in colour, even after she died. When everyone else was living in black and white, under grey skies, she had bright red hair and rosy cheeks. Her blue-eyed gaze still makes me feel exposed, even now. I haven't seen her for weeks, but it seems that I’m still trying to stay afloat in the ever-crashing waves that emit from her intimate glance.

Waiting in the courtyard with my band one last visit before they go off to college, a representative of the Emily Program walks towards me explaining what the procedure was. Knowing the other two would pay attention I look around at the surroundings and in the corner I notice an orange tree, I wonder if that is where Skylar sits when she gets a free period. A caramel hand slips into mine and I look up to see the pianist pulling me with the representative into the building. As we walk through the maze of corridors we stop at a room, or a jail. The gray room is eerie and as we step into the room we see Skylar, her frame dwarfed by the band shirt she’s wearing. Hearing the door open she looks up her face hollow and her eyes no longer hold the same sparkle. As my eyes catch hers the wish that I was stronger for her resurfaces, as if she can sense my thoughts she quickly raises and beckons me to her. Three strides and I hug her pulling her frail form into my body. Her bony hands hold me close. I feel her thin lips near my ear and her husky voice brushes against my earlobe, “You are so strong, I’m sorry sweetie I was weak”. I feel the guilt and self-loathing that has built up finally leave my body as I clung to her frame. Knowing that she never blamed me, I was finally able to accept my actions, as those of a child, a child scared and afraid to lose the person that meant the most

“God, I miss you so much Kris,” Analeigh Remington whispered softly, standing in front of her twin sister’s headstone. Tears were quickly falling and mascara was running down her pale face as a sob escaped her lips. She didn’t attempt to hide the tears and she definitely didn’t care how she looked. Nothing really mattered. Her sister was dead! She looked up at the sky and shook her head before sitting down on the bright green grass. “I... I just want you back,” Ana cried. The fifteen year old brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and rocking back and forth as gut wrenching sobs escaped. Today was the one day every year that she would break down without fail. Usually. Usually she was able to make it home before

I don’t know how to continue now that she is dead. What could I have done to stopped her ? Nothing I guess. How does one keep moving after something like this. She called that night me and told me she loved me. I said I loved her and told her to go to bed because it was late. What would have happened if I stayed on the phone? Things might be different. We could be eating popcorn and watching horror movies right now. But now my life is a horror movie. Everywhere I go reminds me of her. I can't function in school. They thought that a week would be enough time. Going back to a place where I have so many memories with her has just made it worse. I met her here. Right here.

“I remember it being dark. That’s the last thing I remember. It was dark and I saw darkness but darkness is just black. But how do I know all this stuff and what to do and say? There has to be a reason why… Right?”

I remember hearing that and just standing there in silence. When I finally had the breath to say something, I whispered, “You’re messing with me, I know that it is not true.”