Narrative Essay - Original Writing

So, I got lost in the middle of Silverwood in Idaho with my little cousin…

In the summer of 2013 I moved in my dad’s house for the summer to learn how to cook. Moving from Cherokee, AL to Florence, AL was a stressful move. My Mother and I agreed it was best I learn from someone that has being in the field for over 15 years. The game plan was to go work with my dad a Dale’s Steakhouse with my dad all summer. I made sure I grab my notebook and plenty of pencils so I can ask him questions.

I never thought the day would come where I’d have to admit to myself I had an addiction. The hardest part was to except the fact I was an addict of painkillers and admitting it to my family so that I could get the help and support needed to get clean. The road leading to my addiction started with the factors of my childhood, always trying to fit in and not being supported emotionally from my parents. Having a child at the age of sixteen was the second factor, which made me grow up faster than a normal child at my age would have had to. Living the life of an addict was a struggle everyday but, getting help was the hardest part of it all. I’ll live with this disease for the rest of my life because recovery is a

Suddenly I could feel my infernal demise, echoes of my own anguished screams of torment. I could feel as the heat melted my flesh from my bones. I closed my eyes tight, welcoming the silence of death soon to come. I yearned for my suffering to end, and yet an end did not come. Suddenly my anguish transformed into a worse pain. I opened my eyes to find myself staring into the huge crimson eyes of the beast that was tearing my flesh from my bones with it's

As I saw him walk towards my locker at school, as he usually did after 8th period everyday, I could tell what was about to happen. My name was all that I would let him say before I finished what I already knew he was going to say. "You're breaking up with me". And then I just turned and walked away as he called my name yet again but did nothing to catch up to me. I walked down the hallway by the counselors office in the B building where my group of friends usually hung around and exclaimed that he had just broken up with me. They offered me quick condolences before I walked to my bus and sat quietly till I got home. What then felt like a bitter goodbye eventually felt like a necessary sadness in order to obtain happiness.

It was a normal Friday in March except for the fact that I got my license. So my friends and I thought about what we were going to do now that I have my license. Well, we cruised around town thinking we were hot stuff and that we were better that most kids in school since I had my license before many of my friends. We decided that we'd go off-roading since I had the huge truck. It was a hunter green 1979 Ford F-250 Custom. It had huge 33-inch tires, a loud crackling exhaust, and a unique 2-inch thick oak plank flatbed. It really was a beast. So we roared around the backroads hitting bumps and flying into fields just causing a little mischief not doing too much harm. After a week of horsing around

On February 13, 2018 at approximately 1803 hours, I was dispatched to the Walmart located at 8701 US HWY 19 Port Richey, FL in reference to a stolen wallet. Upon my arrival, I made contact with the complainant / victim, Delmarie Mangual. Delmarie advised she had been shopping at the store when her light colored rectangular wallet broke off of its strap after she had checked out. She advised the wallet fell without her noticing somewhere between the registers, the general merchandise exit of the store and her vehicle.

For a year, I was not important to anyone. My family abandoned me, and I was certain no one valued me anymore. No one came looking for me. I was not that important. The program brainwashed me. It taught me I was a nobody...a nothing. I believed that with all my heart and unfortunately my mind.

My eyes were the worst mixture of bloodshot, purple and torture, my body in the worst state possible having gone seventy two hours without sleep, a meal and a proper shower and my mind, a complete mess. I was physically and mentally exhausted, my body and face displaying it all, yet I don't think I had ever came to know who I was more than at the very moment I saw myself completely shut down.

radio that she had a subject detained at Jack in the Box located at 524 A ST SE

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

So this is my life, some say my name should’ve changed but I think not. My mother as a little girl was named Djeserit and in turn I had gotten Isis. When I was born, life was different as my mother and father were egyptians so in turn, I was egyptian but we were royals, so we were the rulers of Egypt. We could have anything we could imagine, it was nice and fantabulous.

It was a frigid October morning as I got into the bus. I sat next to the humble girl from my Language Arts class and pulled out my agenda that was smeared with Sharpie from when it used to say Margaret Harris, 8th grade. It was a normal school day until I looked out the window and saw a man that appeared to be looking straight at me from a far distance, and then the whispers started. Until that day the whispers were just chaotic, jumbles of words that I could never comprehend, but today was different. The whispers grew loud in my head as I stared at the man and just one word repeated in my head…… until.

The sensation sent me reeling through the long alleyways, my hands out before me to catch myself if I fell. It all went by so quickly that I didn't know what happened until I stumbled over my own feet and hit the ground. I was okay, though. I felt relieved—as if all my problems were sinking into the ground along with my blood. That's  when a soldier began calling my name, only to give up when all I responded with was gibberish.  I tried to speak but my words tripped over my tongue and I was stuck in my own mind and about to die. I felt trapped in my own body.

Like it was an enigma or something foreign to me. Everything around me was silent. I couldn’t hear the sounds of the terrible Hive that cry as they witness their deaths, or the remaining Taken spawning and unleashing its darkness. The only thing I heard were the voices in my head telling me that everything would be alright, that it wasn’t my fault, despite my consciousness knowing it was the awe striking-truth of my flaws.