Morgan Narrative

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

I have lived in only one location my entire life: Edwardsville, Illinois. A peripheral suburb of St. Louis, it stands as the rare oasis of people in a desert of corn, pinned in its own personal bubble. Due to this blend of time and isolation, I developed a natural familiarity with my hometown. But, throughout my childhood, I longed to break free from the confines of the bubble and venture outward. However, this changed last summer, as I walked through Richards Brickyard, our family heirloom, that my great-grandfather, Benjamin Richards, founded over 120 years ago. I felt these childlike sentiments slip away. The bubble that had surrounded me for so long began to vanish, and the picture that it had been obscuring was slowly revealed.

The group was about to set off, but there was a groan, and suddenly, the mechanical hound was ahead, mangled and twisted, but just as genuinely frightening as before.

“VROOM” I jumped out of my thinking chair and ran to the window. The intense creech sound of the mailman’s car stopped

Forte: a person's strong suit, or most highly developed characteristic, talent, or skill; something that one excels in. Everyone has a forte.

It was a bright hot summer day here in Little Pine First Nation, where the events took place. The chief and councillor’s had organized a fun filled day with family and friends spending it with one another. As the hot dreadful heat of the day goes by slowly the community is together as one enjoying the music blasted. The bass was pounding on my concession booth the good old country music that everyone likes. Kids are screaming, parents are cheering, cars and trucks are ramming, horses are stomping as they too are getting excited for the big day to start.

That was a lot of money, and I didnt want to let Tony down so I got in the car and started to drive. As I drove the road was empty. I had confidence I was not going o get caught. It was a slightly wormer day out witch might have been because the sun was out. I had the windows down and was blaring music just trying to enjoy life when a cop pulls out behind me.

Taylor O'Neill honked at the man a couple of times and eventually walked up to the vehicle after his honks were ignored. The annoyed driver suddenly heard a frightening sound - a woman's muffled screams for help.

“Hey Jack, wake up!” “Ugh, is it time to wake up already?” Jack and Alex live together in Alex’s Mom’s house, Sheila. “I made you boys breakfast,” Sheila exclaimed to the boys. “Thank you,” said both the boys. After breakfast Alex and Jack went on a walk in the woods, it was raining out so they had their jackets on. “So I have it all planned out, if we do it Friday afternoon we will have the best chances of being successful,” Alex was telling Jack. “Did you get the guns?” Alex, knowing, that it is much easier to get a gun illegally rather than legally buying a gun Alex just went to a drug dealer to buy a gun for Jack and him. See criminals don’t follow the law, strict gun laws only hurt law abiding citizens. On their way back to Sheila’s they plan out a bank robbery.

The purr of vehicles starting up where people begin to drive the winding roads to work. The example is carefully chosen, as if we had lived in another time, the commute would be infinitely more simplistic. Then busses pull up with the loud hiss of air and all the middle school students pour in like fish in a barrel to be very slowly transported to the campus. Those lucky few are dropped off by their parents before work, the spoiled, the brats, and the mama’s boys who rush to class before the bell has even rung. Then pour in the aforementioned busses, quickly flooding the fields with students of all sorts. They come rushing to classes to learn when the busses arrive late. They come running to make sure they aren't sent to the office. The whole school goes silent as the slavery bell tolls its accursed tone, initiating a day of cruel child labor. The teachers lament having to show up each and every weekday to teach 6 groups of students the same material.for hours on end. Then finally the last chime of the prison bell tolls and the exhausted, ignorant, and irritated students slump their ways back to their cars and flood back to those golden mobile homes which they cherish so and Loma Linda once

As Cole Johnston's alarm went off at 6:30am he started his day off as usual and went down to the courtyard and started to Sketch the big old oak tree in the middle of the courtyard. As usual he sketched for a hour and a half,but something didn't feel right,he looked at his phone and saw it was 8:45. He was 50 minuets late to history,his teacher told that if he was even 3 seconds late for history,he would have detention for the rest of the week.

“What you did was terrible, and you will pay for it,” Stephanie said to the criminal. “That’s not what I asked for sweetheart, so now I’m going to have to shut you up.” She tried to scream, but was soon beat for her attempt. The man placed tape over Stephanie’s mouth, and she began to dread what her fate may be. It was though she no longer had a voice. While the man was going through Stephanie’s bag, she managed to stand up. Consequently, she realized her mistake when he had a gun pointed towards her head. “This is it, this is where it ends,” Stephanie thought to herself. Looking through the gun barrels made her rethink everything she had done in her

“Well, shit, let’s go!” Johnny Schumacher replied and then let out howl which got Chuckles howling in the back seat of Ruby.

The way in which a story is organized or complied adds to the ideas, themes, and character of the story. A frame narrative is a way in which a story is told were a main story leads reader into other stories within. Essentially a frame narrative is a story within another story. As in the story One Thousand and One Night the frame narrative is used to tell many different stories within the main story. Although the stories in One Thousand and One Nights are separate from the main story the stories are still relative to the main idea. In One Thousand and One Night the separate stories within are used to delay execution of one of the main characters. In the story of Canterbury tales the frame narrative is used to pass the time of a long journey

It is also assumed that the act of telling a story can provide insight into past, present and future events (Espinoza, 1997). By going through this process, individuals can find the importance of certain events and assign roles to people who are a part of their story. This act can allow a client to find new meaning and understanding to their reality (Espinoza, 1997). Not only is a