Narrative Essay - Original Writing

I heard the faint high pitched beeping of my alarm clock as I opened my sleep covered eyes. I attempted to roll out from under my covers but immediately retreated as I felt the chilly spring air touch my skin. While I was mustering up the motivation to get out of bed, I glanced at my alarm clock. “11:00 AM” it read in boxy, glowing numbers. Had I really slept in that long? I finally rose from my bed, traveling down the stairs to make myself some breakfast. “Hi, girl!” I greeted my dog where she was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I smiled to myself as I turned on some music, opened the fridge to retrieve some eggs, and turned on the stove. It felt like a fine Saturday morning until I remembered that I had a lacrosse game later

You smiled softly at how much he seemed to care for you right now. It seemed as if he’d do anything just make you happy... Which is why you dreaded what you were about to ask. “C-can you bite me?” you mumbled, ashamed of even thinking about it.

I couldn’t sleep. I looked at my somewhat dim, water powered alarm clock, wondering what time it was. 7:43. Way early. Despite being awfully comfortable, I got up, figuring I was just hungry. As I walked the the kitchen, I pondered about my snack. Carrots and orange juice usually is the best choice. ( This is actually a good midnight snack! You should try it! ) I made it to the fridge. As I opened it, I took in the cold air against my warm, cozy fur. Then I realized, that I was sweating. I dropped the blanket I had wrapped around me. Much better. I grabbed my carrots and orange juice, dragged the blanket behind me and took my time getting back to my room. I hopped onto the bed with my snack in hand, and turned on the TV with the remote. The button let out a quiet ‘click!’ as I pushed the smooth, plastic button, before the TV turned on.

“You didn't have to catch the bloody bouquet though” Ric grinned as he once again whispered softly in her ear.

“Hey, you,” I said, leaning down to snuggle up to her. I buried my face into her chest, smelled her musty fur.

The first-person narrative is a story told from the first-person perspective. The narrator is speaking directly about him or herself. The first-person narrator can be either subjective or objective. The third-objective narrative is a story told by a nonparticipating character. The narrator is usually detached from the story. Sometimes, the narrator completely penetrates the mind of a character. Third-person narration is often used in documentaries. The omniscient narrators are often not part of the story but are all-knowing observers. These narrators tell the reader all the facts we need to know to fully understand the story. Since the woman thinks that she is seeing a ghost, I would use the first-person narration. This way the camera can capture all the action through her eyes and emphasizes her fear.

I led her to the shelter that I had created before it got dark. ‘Now we can sleep,’ I said with excitement. ‘But I don’t want to sleep, I want to stay up ALL NIGHT LONG,’ Ella complained. ‘I know you do, and so do I… But we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, flying and all, and you should probably get some rest, I know I will

“I’ve missed you.” He scratched behind her small, leathery ear flaps and her eye rolled up into her head with pleasure. She enjoyed it for a few moments before sliding down into his lap and looking at him expectantly, her suction-cup mouth making anxious pop-pop noises.

I slept considerably late last night despite knowing that I'll have to turn up early the next day for my first day back at the bakery. I had it all planned out: wake up at 9, eat breakfast that consist of a cup of coffee and an omelette that I’ll figure out how to make, eventually, and be out the door by 11, having just enough time to catch the bus and arriving half past eleven even though my usual shift begins at noon.

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.

CHARLES: My caretaker Frank is to put me to bed again tonight, but I’ve had trouble sleeping. It feels as though someone or something is present, lurking in the dark ready for my guard to go down. I just hope it will be different tonight.

His side of the bed was empty. Again. It was the third week in a row that you hadn’t seen Jungkook before he left for work. Seeing him before he went to bed was just as rare. Usually he came home after you were already asleep, and woke up early to get back to the studio. With how little he’d been sleeping, you guessed that he must have been taking naps while he was at work. How else would he manage to survive on five hours of sleep a night? You suspected that sometimes, he didn’t come home at all. Those were the nights you didn’t wake up to the sound of your front door closing, or the feeling of Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you before he quickly dozed off.

The sound of his sleepy voice startled me, he had risen and silently padded over to the window, standing closely behind me. I muttered to myself before stating that I was going to make coffee. As I walked away towards the kitchen, Winston grabbed my

The saying ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ goes a very long way; I learnt my lesson the hard way. I happened to be a very judgmental teenager and I lost many friends that way. Even before speaking with or having any contact with an individual, I judged them based on what I saw on the outside. My friends, the ones who stuck with me, always told me that one of those days, I would be taught a valuable lesson; and boy they were correct.

“Please don’t make me do this, I’m begging you,” Audra continued. “I’ll be good, I swear. I’ll do anything you want! I’ll study harder and I won’t talk back to you and Father. And I promise I won’t tear up my good dresses sword fighting and running about. And you’re right! A noblewoman shouldn’t be out there making a dirty mess of herself and spending time learning to fight. It’s uncouth, just as you said. You were right and you’ve been right all along. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before, but I will now if you’ll give me another chance. Please…”