Go here?: A Fictional Narrative

Joseph Campbell has a theory called The Hero’s Journey in where an individual is shown in a mundane world, called to an adventure, and goes on the adventure. In the adventure, the individual goes on the path of trials that consisting of making new friends, new mentors, new enemies, facing new challenges, gaining new skills, and new knowledge. When the individual comes back to their mundane world, they are the master of two worlds through their new experiences they've gained in the adventure. The Hero’s Journey has been repeated in literature and films through many years: two examples that have The Hero’s Journey are the films, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

Put the gun down! Put the gun down! Pow Pow Pow. The gun shots cracked into the air as loud as thunder. One after another. We live day by day not knowing our end. In the blink of an eye our lives can be changed forever. Its life, yet even in knowing this we never expect tragedy to find us. We never expect it to affect our lives and the people we know and love. I’m going to share with you the day tragedy found my life.

Sam was walking home from the Morrisville Market with a full bag of groceries. The sun was hot and no clouds were in sight. He smelled the fresh bread being baked in the shops. He felt like nothing could go wrong, and oh how wrong he was about that. The sidewalk was cracked right in front of Lana’s Diner glowed an odd red light. “What the……AHHHHHH!” When a garbage truck pulled up the garbage man found Sam lying face down on the sidewalk with a \

“I’m gonna go after Sarah!” Luke screamed over the noise and without second thought, he took off running. My eyes went wide as he was immediately lost in the crowd of walkers.

Well, today’s the big day! I woke up and burst out of bed, almost falling over in the process. I ran downstairs to wake up my Mom and Dad, but of course, they were already up and running.

My hands were sweating against the microphone in my hand, I could feel the anxiety throughout the air on the big stage. The only thing separating me, I mean us, from the large crowd filled with haters, supporters, and who knows what else; was the velvet red curtain that she knew in no time would disappear, revealing me and my friends to our fate.

As we continued along the trail, we were stopped by a very steep hill. Hunter announced that we should dump some stuff from our wagon in order to get on top of the hill. I dump my a tired that I bought recently and a barrel with nothing in it. The trip up the hill was a pain. It took so long to get up the hill I almost fell asleep. My leg was sore and I thinking about giving up. Finally we made it to the top of the hill and we realized that we had to go down the hill. We decided to use our own ropes and slowly descend our wagon one by one. When we descend Curtis’s wagon, Curtis almost fell. He was able to caught himself before he fell down the hill. Well all went down the hill and as we were going down the hill, we saw a divine blue spring

The small car pulled into the driveway of the frat house. 8:15 was the time; the party was already started. Mark noticed his friends’ cars were there as he got out of his own and hurried to the door.

“Hey you want to drive”, my step-dad yelled over the loud engine of blue grizzly 4x4 quad I yelled “yes!!”, so as I got one the quad I put on my helmet and fased the strap on the same color helmet.

I waiting for some sort of reaction, and it came by him scooting a body space or two away from me. I had sat too close to him, and he didn’t like that. I couldn’t believe it. It seemed like everything I could do wrong I did. After fidgeting around with the dust and dirt laying around us, I almost couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted to run off, and I almost did but then he spoke. D’Angelo didn’t say just one thing, but two, then three, and just kept talking. It made me so confused. At first I was confused that he didn’t think I was so “uncool” after throwing bark in his eyes and sitting too close next to him, but that quickly turned into confusion about what he was talking about. It sounded like he was quoting pages out some boring “adult”

“Nice place,” his slight attempt at humor grounds me and I’m pulled back into a reality where I’m uncomfortable—excited and even delighted—but also apprehensive. I like my space and right now he is invading every inch of it. ”You look…”

"Yeah, I bought her groceries before I knew anything about her. From our short interaction at the grocery store, I learned that she really likes organic food. I knew that we would have a few things in common, so I asked for her phone number."

Wouldn’t it be odd if you met your best friend at grief counseling? Psychologically, it’s not as odd as you may think. For example, The Storytellers is a book about two unlikely friends that connect through their losses and further their friendship by using each other as filters to talk to someone that will listen when you are willing to tell. The characterization aspect will be done on Sage, her past and how it has affected her. Predicting what will happen next is the part that will show inside the mind of the reader thus far. Lastly, evaluating both Sage and Josef’s situations at the moment.

Growing up in a family of six, there was never a shortage of people to read to me, the only shortage that existed was my ability to understand and appreciate the story in front of me. I was always on the move and the sedentary act of reading a book never appealed to my childish motives. Coupling my inability to hear well and my stagnant progress in school, I was quickly falling behind. With most of my childhood dedicated to the fantastical world I had created, I had no time to listen to someone else’s story. I would not continue on this way though, for my mom, noticing my lack of literacy skills, made it her effort to divulge in me the wonders of someone else’s world, each world becoming a part of my own.

“You heard me on the phone didn’t you?” I start the conversation getting straight into the subject.