Neon Lights-Personal Narrative

“What else have you got in there?” Hector asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice as he placed the glasses back down on the desk.

I spin around to see him catching up to me. “At least let me buy you a new drink.” he gestures to the door.

First of all I was in my dark room with the only light being my t.v, I playing Xbox with my friend Skylar, we were playing Rainbow Six Siege a counter terrorism shooter. It was a late on a dark, stormy night, it was bomb objective and only I was left on the team to face five other enemies defusing the bomb and I slowly and stealthy with his silenced pistol picked off about two enemies outside the objective roaming and then pulled out his primary the 416-C Assault Rifle and went in blazing in the objective and his heart was racing he picked off another two enemies and that’s when he began guarding the defuser waiting to find the last enemy. “Can you search cams Skylar?” I asked Skylar.

On a Saturday morning, around 10am, my family was getting ready for my niece’s (Maritza) 4-year-old birthday party. After 12:30pm we were already at my sister’s (Adele) house, ready to give my niece a hug and her annual present. At the moment Maritza wasn’t home, so I stalled for a bit. Chatted with their neighbor, few high school friends, and their wife’s. Finally, she showed up along with her father. The first person she hugs is me, I’m her favorite uncle, according to her, as she hugs my legs and looked up and says, “hey uncle J.” I replied “hey?” with a bit of a curiosity on my mind. Her lip had a big red lump. I managed to not ask her what had happened on her lip. I’m thinking it’s a “I fell down” type accident. The party went off, and

“The driver thought you might need a place to sleep tonight, so he wants you to spend the night at the Hilton, over in Greentown.”

Mark Depsey III is the president of the country club social committee, making him and his wife ranked at the top of the socialite hierarchy.

In Amicalola falls, me and my cousin Tamara were hiking on the trail. I turned to Tamara and said,

“Sure, another time.” Ashleigh grabbed another beer and then walked off to find someone to dance with.

Jack Foster was a dreamer. He liked searching the shelves in the local bookstore, exchanging a brief smile with the old man behind the counter from time to time. There was a certain twinkle in his eyes as he sat down by an old oak tree and began reading. He valued the kind of simplicity offered by fictional worlds. The black words scribbled across the page had the power to transport him anywhere. He could be anything — a struggling doctor, a secret agent, a tyrant king in a far off land —and for a few moments every day, Jack forgot about the dreaded letter he had received a few weeks ago. He had been working overtime at Wilson's Market, stocking the shelves and admiring the beautiful brunette behind cash register three. His heart pounds against

“After tonight we need to talk” He said. I nodded. We finished our dance and he left to get me a drink.

“It was my fault, okay?” His statement caused her to halt. She attempted to look at him again but her eyes focused on the clouds above his head. He stuffed his hands in his pockets before sauntering away. His hand fiddled with the wallet. She dragged herself to her dorm; her hatred for herself grew. She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking about how incredibly stupid she was. She replayed the encounter in her mind, rewriting the entire event to fit an embarrassment free one. As she blamed herself, her thief found himself at his quiet area on campus. While sitting on a bench, he examined the wallet. A tattered, russet leather wallet with ‘Marcy’ embroidered on it with blue bubble letters. He ran his index finger along each letter, tracing

“When I was a little kid I had a good friend who lived down the road from me. Her name was Aria Robin Hunter. I always thought it was cool she had two first names but she thought it was bothersome since she had to explain it to everyone. Aria Robin was always a very creative girl, even for a kid, she seemed to have all these never ending ideas. She was perfectly fine with being left to her thoughts even when it was because all the other kids thought she was weird. She never minded them when they saw her creations as strange alien things. All she said to the boy who told her an animal she drew was strange looking was that he simply hadn’t seen one before. She didn’t seem odd to me when we were little but I began to see her differently as we

“Yes,” she smiled, “Though he asks not to be disturbed for the rest of the night. He is agitated and wants to focus on papers.”

The eyes. There the windows to the soul and the passage to your heart. You can see love or hate. Everyone's eyes are different but we all have pasts and demons that haunt us. They eyes tell the truth and nothing but it. Looking at Hollie goddards eyes now would break your heart but before... they were magic. One look in her eyes and you became enticed with her beauty and grace. One look and you could barely take in the steel grey eyes that sparkled like diamonds. I miss those eyes. When I met her I was enticed, you might say it was ¨love at first sight.¨ But she changed, and I watched it happen.

I woke up on a cold metallic table there were wires connected to me, and the first thing I saw was this man look at me then he ran away. I was confused to why he done this. There was this mirror I looked into it and wondered what was wrong with me. Am I ugly, am I weird looking, or am I scary. I had greenish skin, I had a bar running through my neck, black hair that resembled yarn. My clothes were very formal like a businessman. My head was shaped like a block, and my eyes were tented with yellow. Each time I tried to talk it came out as a “mmmmrrrr”.