Fire And Ice-Personal Narrative

It was late one day in June, and the sky was as blue and clear as sparkling wine. I sat back in my hammock reading the book Unbroken enjoying myself, and my uncle came up and asked me if I wanted to play poker with him, 5$ buy in. I jumped at the idea finished my page and went inside the house. Poker is a pretty big thing in my family and I’ve grown up playing and my uncle was one of the best, so spending time with him playing poker is always one of my favorite things to do. We proceed to set up the table, “Texas Holdem“ he says, Jacks to open”. Nothing weird, so we get the game going and the pots getting pretty big when all of the sudden he drops his cards. I stare the cards dead in the eye and see that i'm going to surpass him! He looks

Suddenly my eyes flew open, the coldness slowly lingered away. My body felt warm. Almost as warm as how my mouth felt the last time I had sipped on my grandmother's tea. My grandmother always told me to have faith and to believe in the end everything would be alright. I felt the frigid saltwater against my skin. “Where am I?” I thought to myself. I couldn’t quite recall what had happened nor where I was. All that I could recall was hearing screams of innocent children and parents trying to comfort

In the midst of the conversation we were having, he stopped talking abruptly. I looked around noticing the Master was approaching angrily with a switch. What have I done wrong? Had he been calling for me? He approached me and aggressively began lashing me with the switch. He threw a multitude of questions at me he was almost unintelligible. “Where have you been? What are you doing out here with the likings of him?” He had been drinking of course and here I was to receive the bad end of it. He turned over to the outside slave and began lashing him with more force than he had with me. I made the decision of getting in between them to hinder the amount of pain inflicted on the outside slave, being that this was my fault. Clearly to the dismay of the Master. He had become more furious with me. He grabbed me by the sleeve of my dress, dragging me towards the one of the slave houses. Noticing the familiarity of the situation I had gone blank. I conjectured he’d force himself onto me as he usually would do but he went past the slave houses into a field.No longer being able to recognize what he’d do I began to panic. Nearby was a tree and rope. He stripped me bare, tied me to the tree and began lashing me with the rope. I counted…1, 2.. Until I found myself unusually dizzy. Was I going to die? I thought I’d never find myself here, nor did I think this could

oals, I thought to myself as I sprinted down the field, ball in my net. The scorching sun beat down on my back, as if trying to slow me down as I passed defender after defender, trying to score that next goal.

Kneeling on the frozen snow nor feeling nor knowing what is beneath me?…. my cells are no longer responding… My body is shivering, begging me to stop…….My hands are pale as if my blood has frozen, barely moving, barely thinking, barely conscious. My glim of hope vanishing as I realise I won’t survive in this vast of white snow… Lost the sense of direction. How many days have I travelled? Believing in a glim that goes nowhere. Am I going insane? Not knowing the date nor the time nor someone to talk to but only myself. Only if my friend was here… What am I talking about his already dead. How did he die ? I can’t remember well? We were walking nearby a river hoping if we follow the current it may lead us to people,I heard a splash I turned my back and he was into the cold water, I helped him to get up but his foot got stuck into a puddle pulling his head under the water, he was struggling I tried to pull him towards me but I was too exhausted, as he was drowning I saw his face expression it gave me a

*disclaimer: bare with me... the next 5 chapters are crap because i wrote them over a year ago...chapter 19 will be the start of some great shit*

I was dreading this moment, the moment that would choose my fate. I walked into the brightly lit courtroom, everyone was looking at me with judgmental glances. I walked up to the stand and raised my right hand to swear in.

Since my mouth appeared to be cemented shut, I was unable to form any words. I could no longer do anything except listen to my thoughts and watch the torch dim. Why had Montresor ruined my life? Wasn’t he was my friend? I struggled against the manacles, hoping to liberate myself from this enslavement. The niter building up in my lungs was not good for a decrepit man like me, so I had coughing fits until my throat was raw. Furthermore, the rapidly swelling lump on my head was bothering me, and my missing ear caused pain that was nearly

I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I

I stood in front of the judge as he read my sentence. The fear of what would become of me was a constantly reminder of what I’ve done in the past. I admitted what I did to the family in Georgia to the police and to many other people. It’s too late for me now. The old lady was wrong, I’m not a goodman. However, during my time in jail I prayed for the first time in my life.

I then fell… My life flashed before my eyes as I plummeted into the ground, the ice shattered beneath me and the entire world froze as my cheek hit the frigid ice. The cold biting at my face, I could smell nothing and could only see

I remember our first road trip, it was to UGA and even though Ashi might have hated the school, I loved it! I loved it was partially because I got to go with such wonderful people and I had such a wonderful time. And every time you came to Johns Creek, it would be a new story on a new “crush” or one of my other boy problems. It’s going to change, from high school sweethearts to college sweethearts. These high school “Friday night lights” are soon going to be college “Friday night lights” and I really hope they’re worth it.

My heart was thumping heavily, as the bus took a turn towards the mountains. I didn’t know why I had agreed, but it was too late to turn back.

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.