Drive Home-Personal Narrative

"More than anything, I just want you to know that there is more than one person you can lean on. You may have someone up their who you are relying on, but you have two incrediably strong sons who would never wish to see their mother in pain like this. Whatever the outcome we finally get your boys will be strong for you and in return I'm sure you will be strong for them."[/b]

“I’m going to break you.” She said. “Every single bone in your body and once you recover, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

I don’t get why my sister is sending me here, sending me to rehab. Its not like I have a problem. Ok, I have a slight problem but that doesn’t mean I need to go to rehab for it. She thinks it will help me “get better”. I get so annoyed with her when she says that. All she ever says to me now is do this and you’ll get better, try harder and maybe things would work out. Try harder. You don’t think I’ve tried my whole life to fix the things that are wrong with me. I have. I fought every single day and nothing ever changed. I’m still the same way I was since I was little. I’m still messed up. I know I am but she can’t honestly think that rehab is going to help can she? I highly doubt it.

When she passed by him minutes later, he stepped out from behind the lockers, his fingers forcefully latching onto her wrists. She yelped as she was pulled into the restroom alongside him, a hand quickly pressed to her lips, muffling her cries.

Xavier was beginning to have a light problem with involuntarily being knocked out or foreced to sleep. Again. He was honestly surprised no one in the house coined him Sleeping Brutee. Okay, maybe it was lame but his head really fucking hurt. His slowly dragged his hand and placed it on his forehead, dragging his arm indeed was a challenge. It was like he was carrying his own dead weight around...in his dense state.

Benjamin was the butt of everyone’s jokes. It wasn’t that he was dumb. Just living on some other planet. The town council was embarrassed to have a 26-year-old sitting on a bench all day in front of the courthouse, so they gave him a job polishing’ cannonballs piled beside the Civil War 10 pounder there. But a week later, Benjamin announced he was quitting’. “I found my own cannonball and I’m going into business for myself,” he told the mayor.

“Frank,” Gerard whispers from his bed, rustling the covers and he turns to face me. Propping his head in the palm of his hand he waits for me to respond. Which I don’t, because it’s nearly 4am, so I at least give him a loud ‘humm’. “Can I see your tattoos?” he asks like a little kid asking for candy. I nod even though he can’t see and flick on the lights. Practically blinding me. I sit up and pull off my shirt nonchalantly. It seems like a weird request for most people, but it’s happened to me so much I am overly comfortable with my body. His eyes widen and stands up cautiously, acting like if he got too close I’d bite him. Even though I only have a few, he looks like it’s his first time watching porn. He cocks his head, looking at my face, confused. “What are these?” he says, holding out his hand point, but stopping a few inches from my ear. Almost as if he was going to touch, but couldn’t. I wish he would. Not in the creepy way, I mean, I’m straight. Sure. But I wanted him to know it was okay to touch me. For the future.

As Glenn sipped on the champagne he had grabbed to help wash down the handful of uppers he had just taken, he quietly mingled with everyone in the hall, doing his best not to bring attention to himself. Everything was going good too… that was until he spotted Mr. Bojangles slinking his little furry way through the room. “Son of a bitch,” Glenn whispered to himself in utter disbelief. “I’d recognize that wretched fur ball anywhere.” And, Glenn should have recognized the cat; he had stared all day, every day at the stupid feline’s pictures splattered all over Peggy’s desk for the past dozen or so years.

My head was spinning, the kind of spinning you'd get after you've had a little too much to drink. Someone yelled from across the room, the little voice awoke at the back of my mind and said ever so casually “Don't worry, it's probably another nobody.” I shrugged my shoulders and carried on walking, inching my way closer and closer to the door weaving my way through the jungle of people, I was determined to do one thing and one thing only. Get outside.

“You don’t need to use your eyes to see me, Samantha. Use your other senses: smell, hearing, touch. Follow the sound of my voice and the scent of my cologne; they will lead you to me.”

Head spinning and sleep deprived, my black and white-striped Adidas drag across the taupe cement floor, begging to come to a stop in front of the lockers in the backroom. The cold steals away my sense of feeling, yet my nose still manages to alert to how cold it is by allowing nasal fluids to dominate. I sniff. Today is going to be long.

The rest of the ride was smooth and silent, at least on the outside; inside of me I felt like a soda bottle someone had shaken up long enough till it was about to explode. All the resentment I had felt for Patty had came up again on the one hour drive. I couldn’t believe her! She should’ve told me it was a dine and dash. Here I was, driving around, sticking my neck out so she can have her night of fun, and she doesn’t even bother to tell me what we’re doing.

I wouldn’t mind visiting Ireland. I wish I were in Scotland, floating on Loch Ness, fishing for eels. But from I’ve heard these places aren’t fairing much better than the old Disunited States. Things seems to be dilapidating rapidly.

I drive home. My car is falling apart. I just finished my job at the community college. I volunteer at the library. It doesn't pay a whole lot, but I'm okay.

The police came a while later due to a neighbor hearing a scream from his house and they searched the