Free Narrative Essays: Mitch's Cages

Most of us have been stuck inside during a snowstorm at some point. We may have wanted to get out of the house, but we couldn’t. We were trapped inside. Scotty, one of the kids stuck at Tattawa Regional High School, has this same problem, but worse. Scotty is one of seven students that are stuck at Tattawa Regional High School during a massive snowstorm. After the power shuts off and heat begins to seep out of the building, the students begin a race against time to escape the school which could soon become their icy grave. In the story Trapped, Michael Northrop uses descriptive language to introduce a problem, develop a mood, and create suspense.

It was a day like any other, until Surai hears a piercing screech that slowly fades away. “Hey, did you guys hear that?” says Surai. “Yeah it sounded like a scream” replies Tooler. “I wonder who it was?” questions Mickey. All of them rush to the edge and discover nothing. They all say their goodnights and return to our rooms. They all go to sleep wondering who made that noise. The next day we wake up and find a load of people crowded on the deck. “It’s chaos” Surai says. Tooler goes up and asks Schmedrick what’s wrong. “Schmandon has gone missing, and a bunch of people thought they heard a scream last night” replies Schmedrick. Surai, Mickey, and Tooler then realize that it was Schmandon who made the scream last night. “I think that Schmandon

The Gilded Cage tells the story of a lacrosse player, Arthur, who starts to get sexual desires for a fellow teammate, Owen. Arthur’s sexual fantasies disrupt his time with Owen all throughout the second act of the film, and since he’s conventionally straight man, he’s need to repress these thoughts cause the protagonist to distance himself from his friend, making him miserable at the end of the film. There are many cinematic elements in short that convey this story to the audience. The narrative structure of this piece follows a very conventional format.

I look over at Caleb and see that he is unconscious, with blood rolling down his forehead from a shard of glass that hit him when the back windows exploded. Suddenly I hear a loud scream. Sirens, making a noise so blood curdling, like a symphony of women screaming at the top of their lungs. It reminds me of that day when I was eight, except this time it’s my brother who I am hoping is okay, not Tina, who I knew wasn’t going to make it.

“One, Two, THREE!” Lennie and I sprint toward the bus. I don’t think I have ever seen Lennie run so fast. Just as I think we have made it to safety, a gunshot goes off. Right in front of the old bus, I fall to my knees as my vision becomes blurry. Even through all of the noise and commotion, all I can hear is my ears ringing. Most people would be scared or angry that they are dying, but I was happy because Lennie was safe. Surprisingly, the bus driver took Lennie and drove off. The bus before had just seemed like a bus, but now it was like a chariot, because it carried the only thing important to me in it. As the sight of the bus became vague, my eyes slowly shut and my smile slowly

Angela had awakened in the passenger seat of a car just like her sister had, also with a good-sized goose egg just like her sister had, and heading west at over seventy miles per hour just like her sister had. The only difference was Angela found herself riding shotgun in a police cruiser.

Arnold shook his head, and Connie found herself in the jalopy’s passenger seat. She turned around and her house was fading into a little speck. All she could remember was that her parents were supposed to be home in a few hours, and just a few minutes ago, just a mile or two back home, just a tick and a tock away, she could feel her chest heaving and her stomach twisting right behind a screen door with her eyes staring right into Arnold Friend’s face. Now, Arnold was sitting right next to her, humming Connie’s favorite

What are they doing?” I think to myself again. Two of the ghastly people I noticed while we turned onto this street are walking toward Ben’s car. I lock my doors and continue to panic. I can hear guys yelling at Ben, threatening him. The longer we sit here and the louder the men at Ben’s window become, the more obvious it becomes they are not sober. This fact sends me into an even deeper level of stress. At this point it becomes abundantly apparent that my car is a rag top convertible. “One of these guys could easily come cut my roof open and get me,” I think to myself as my stress and fear completely take over my thoughts. I can barely breathe at this point. I still cannot figure out why Ben is still sitting here, and why he does not just drive away. They are telling him to get out of the car now. I knew had a bad feeling about this little

One of the double doors to the Libra office flung open. Klaus came through holding the door for Leo as they entered together. Gilbert on the other hand vanished upon arriving at the building, which seems to be his typical thing. The brunet turned his head to the left where Chain and K.K were both near the leader's desk waiting for them. Chain turned around meeting the boy's eyes, hiding a grin that was probably pointed at him, surely believing that she won the bet. K.K, however, looked quite irritated. Something must have been on her mind because in truth she looked quite scary.

“Give me Liberty or get me a Tent.” There have been better signs of course. But that was what my protest sign read for the first Occupy action I went to. I carried it proudly to a number of Occupy marches and rallies; for womens’ rights, for housing reforms, for improved prison conditions, and for a better educational system. But I made it for that first idealistic action: the Daylong Nonviolent Mass Occupation.

I still remember like it was a year ago, the first and last time that I was in jail because of him. My uncle Jackson called as usual to tell me that Luke was in Jail for stealing fruits from different baskets of the woman at the central market. I waited till the weekend to go to Chicago to pay his bail because I could not be absent from my job. I was going back to Oakland, one of the many dangerous neighborhoods. Everything had changed and right inside the house, I was hearing gun shots every one hour and a half or two hours, I found myself ben scared like never before. Nothing was the same. Later that evening that I arrived, I asked my uncle to go along with me to show he station where my brother was locked. We drove thirty minutes to get to our destination, I was so angry because my brother was there with his friends but he was the

She snatches the wheel out of an attached circular freefall, and with a well meaning jerk to the right, her car is on the road once again. It bobs between the yellow and white lines for a several moments before she finally comes to her senses, putting those few short months of drivers training to use. As she manages to regain control of the car she begins to frantically search for Nick, calling out into the night. “Nick! NICK!” she screams repeatedly, her voice quickly becoming hoarse with each impactful cry. Her eyes scan the sides of the road, opposed to the center in her moment of madness thinking that it was possible for him to abandon her mid drive.

The water they poured on me was freezing. I was instantly awake, but jumping up in surprise I hit my head on the cage. I looked around frantically for my mom, dad, anyone but those people but they were everywhere. They all had these long poles with long sharp things at the end. I don't know what they were but one thing is for sure is that they hurt. The humans yelled and me calling me leftover, small , and puny. They said they would keep me for later when I would be worth more.

Many people do not listen to ideas of a young person. They are thinking that he or she does not understand. Even, I sometimes have done this with younger kids. Many people equate youth with immaturity. Which is sometimes true but is not always true. This is somewhat similar, but not as severe. He is just another adult that thinks young people are all the same. Age is a big problem with its stereotypes and could be a "cage" with either being too old or too young.

This is the story of the day I choose to be free from the chains of society. Most people think of society as a structure, a way of living, they think their whole purpose in life is to be part of society. To me society is a prison, dictating how you must live your life and if you don’t meet their expectations they shun you to the darkest corner and say you’re a criminal, a psycho, scum. I’ve always hated how society thinks, that if you’re not like them they have the right to beat us, spit in our face, rob us, make our life miserable, label us, and discriminate against us.