Monologue-Personal Narrative

Satisfactory Essays
PROLOGUE I walked down the street with my hands down my pockets of my black, ripped jeans. As I exhale, my hot breath formed a faint fog in the cold weather as if I was smoking. My skin was as cold as the winter wind blows that I can feel it to my bones. But I ignore the feeling. It was crazy cold, and there was no one in my sight. Of course, no one is that crazy to walk in the freezing weather. Except me. I let out a long deep breath as my eyes follow the fog breaking into more fainter form, and disappear. It was quiet too, too quiet that my ears could sense small sound, as sharp as police dog. Instinctively, I turned around and I saw him. My father. Before I could fully turn to him, bulky men running towards him and topple him onto the
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