How To Write A Narrative Essay

I awoke today with the light streaming into my room and hearing the birds chirping in the distance. As I regained my conscience, I smelled the mold and felt damp room conditions all around me that imprisoned me. It reminded me of what would have happened only in a nightmare. It was only yesterday that Corey, Nurse, Hale and I had gone to help the accused women. So many times I felt that I could win the battle, yet just as many times I could feel the rope slipping through my fingers.

‘I know, but this was real, and I saw a body in there!’ He would never understand. I sighed, and I knew I had to take action. I would have to go inside his house.”

I must be very tired last night, otherwise I wouldn’t be in such deep sleep right now. I wasn’t having dreams, and my entire mind has sunk into the space full of pure darkness and dead silence. Peace and calmness were the only things in this place. I wished this secured feeling could last forever. Knowing the exhaustion and pressure in the outside world, it had been my favorite place. I wanted to stay there longer, and longer.

The commute home was short, bit it felt so much longer. The city was growing darker each day, and there was no noise, just silence. I shivered, it was very unnerving.

It was a dark night the rain pounded fiercely on the roof, the moon was abnormally large as the sad gloomy clouds drifted in the bitter air. He hid in the shadows of the trees, unmoving, unnoticed his black pierce eyes watch you like a wolf might observe its prey he watched her carefully each step she took as she inhaled and exhaled the cold air she felt uneasy, alert every instinct in her body warned her of danger, more and more until she felt the presence of someone’s cold gaze behind her as you can feel him haunt the air around her, as the stalker, silent as the night, grabbed her roughly by the shoulders.

Suddenly, a small shadow in the corner of Billy’s eye drew his attention to the end of the corridor. His face now riddled with fear as the shadow quickly disappeared to the right. As he slowly approached the corner—the lights started to flicker. His palms started to sweat. His legs felt weak. Billy’s fingers were slipping off the handle bars; forcing him to grip even tighter. Before he could blink he had to make a sharp right turn. With the lights still flickering—it was hard to

It was surprisingly cold for an ordinary early November night. He was situated against the back of the street bench. His posture was slouched and uneasy. There was something hidden beneath his arm, unable to be seen due to the obscurity of the night. In the distance he could see her approaching. She too had something beneath her arm. Only the two of them knew what was beneath each others arms. This day, this exact moment had been the singular thing on his mind for the foregoing forty-eight hours.

Three days had gone by and the ministry notice remained unopened, unread, and under a stack of old newspaper. Twice he had moved to pick it up and investigate, but the when he began to think about what was inside the wax sealed envelope his legs turned stiff and his chest grew tight and the sound of teeth tearing flesh rang through his ears. It was safer to leave the letter untouched.

As my 8th grade year in Willis Junior High began to come to a close, the pressure of high school arose earlier than I expected. Transitions weren’t something I was unfamiliar with, but losing all strong connections with great friends and amazing teachers scared me severely. I knew that after middle school, my closest friends and I would be separated. With busy schedules, contact was uncertain and limited. For the first time, I felt what real anxiety of entering a new area of my life was like. I thought of nothing but everyone’s expectations of me, and how I might fail without the support of my friends. Unfortunately, I concluded right away that I did not look forward to entering high school. The change in my emotions during this time was important

I lay in my bed, most likely past midnight. The candle I’m using flickers and flares lighting the damp room after the storm. I’m writing in my journal, when I hear a knock at my front door. I quietly tip-toed down the creaking stairs to the door. I opened up the door to reveal a shadowy figure. He handed me a letter and without any words got back on his horse and rode away. I shut the door and walked back up the stairs, not even thinking of the letter I was just handed. When I got upstairs I blew out the candle and went to sleep.

Then through the open window flew countless memories of me and you. Long before your body died, long ago time did abide, to welcome warmly your tortured soul seduced by demons oh so bold.

I pressed my tongue against the back of my teeth and recoiled my fingers from the keys of my laptop. Bringing my hands together I dug dirt out from underneath my nails, glaring at the chipped polish with disappointment in myself for thinking that doing the dishes after getting them done wouldn’t do any damage. I tilted my head back and looked up at the studio lights, shining against the maze of cords and beams as I sat listening to murmurs around me and subtle paper shuffling that had been absent seconds before; a stirred pond, a shook snow globe, mud confusing the water, snow fogging the

The impact of the crisp wind while taking the first steps out of the studio stung, yet replenished my energy that I had set in motion from the previous three hours. It was an all-too familiar sensation, but it diverted my attention, causing me trip. As I did so, my bag fell and spilled out the contents of my life: fraying pointe shoes were the first to come out, with the ribbons now hanging by a single thread. The pale pink color was indistinguishable among the numerous scuffs, marking overuse; tangled earbuds came trailing behind, with an iPhone covered by an Otterbox case buzzing with reminders; a pair of Lululemon leggings coated with white dog fur; sheet music from Cello Suite No. 1 dotted by notes; a blue-trimmed wallet I had bought with

“You know that I can’t let you live knowing that, Austen.” He pointed his gun at me.

The sun was shining, and it was an overall great day. I was walking down with my friends enjoying the weather, and their company. We were going to the best cafe on the street, the one we’ve been going to since we were kids. My friends and I took the shortcut through the allée. As soon as we walked into the alley, the sunlight washed away and the darkness flooded in. I could feel the darkness cold on my back, as we ran through the creepy path. I made sure my wallet was secure inside my pant pocket.