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My Hero-Personal Narrative

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I remember my mom. My brother’s name is Thom. I’m fourteen years old. My dog’s name was Spot. He had stripes. I remember poverty. I remember the bullet. The government is wrong. The memories flow back to me as I step up to the Country Hall. “Hello, Tori,” the man in the suit, who I think is someone important, says. “Hey, how are ‘ya?” I reply. The man chuckles, but doesn’t answer my question. “Do you know why you’re here, Tori?” “Well, no, not really. You weren’t exactly clear on the whole ‘come to the Hall, we want you there.’” At that moment, time stopped. This happened before, I told myself. I’m the only one who notices this, I thought. I could feel something. The memories and the feeling of love went up and down my body. Then I saw him. Thom. I haven’t seen him in five years, …show more content…

Sherman. It consists of running, building up endurance, then getting thrown into the battlefield and fighting bad guys. That’s what they’re having me do, fight random thugs who chose the thug life. They’re kind of going fast, but I’m all for it. I like getting right to the point. After about a month of training, my brother comes into my training room and I see that look again, the one where I can tell he recognizes me. He walks up to me, makes sure no one is looking, then puts his pointer finger up to his mouth, and motions for me to follow him. “Tori,” he starts, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m risking a lot just coming in here, so I have to make it fast.” That’s how things are these days, I guess. Fast. “Don’t trust anyone here. Especially Mr. Sherman.” Then he left. I always think about what Thom said, and I’m always careful around Mr. Sherman. I notice everything he says, everything he does. He walks over to a woman I know as Brittany, who has long, straight, brown hair. She has a sense of authority to her, though not as much as Mr. Sherman. I eavesdrop on their conversation, because, I

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