Norm Unnairel: A Narrative Fiction

I sprinted up the stairs, taking no time to stop for breakfast. I had to make it to the factory by 5 or I’d be beaten. The fear of punishment gave me extra speed as I ran out the door into the smoggy darkness. As I ran, I tied back my long blonde hair with the ribbon tied around my wrist. I ran down the cobblestone street, careful not to step in any of the piles of mud. The streets were devoid of carriages, anybody rich enough to own a horse wasn’t getting up this early. The only people I shared the streets with were other children and adults going to work.

The other Wes Moore written by Wes Moore is about two completely different life stories that have completely different outcomes. Two young men with the same name, lived in the same neighborhood, yet they chose two different paths to walk through life. The author chose going to school and getting an education. The other Wes Moore chose the path of drugs and alcohol. Each Wes had events that help shape the path they would walk on through life.

The young woman opened up her door and immediately felt that sense of uneasiness again even though her home was full of light. She could hear the water running in the bathroom and figured that her boyfriend, James, was just taking his usual night shower. She went into the kitchen to get a quick drink of water. As she drank the cool liquid she felt an immense feeling of relief. She advanced toward the bathroom. She walked down the hallway heading towards the closed bathroom door. Alecia felt a sense of panic and anxiety when she felt her foot become slightly submerged in a liquid on the floor.

The article “ The Mythical Norm” by Audrie Lorde, discussed by Barbara Perry, talks about the universal conception of what a “norm” in society is considered to be. Barbara Perry

"I want you to go back to the square try to retrace her steps. Get camera footage, eyewitness statements anything that's going to help us find her."

The evening was ominous and gray. The cold wind blew softly, and carried a heavy scent of blood through the streets. A loud intense screech pierced the ears of its listener, leaving the body trembling in fear.

The man said, “I was following you around, because we didn’t know where we were going. We thought you looked like you knew where you were going. I didn’t mean to scare. Every time I started to approach you to ask you for help, you ran away.”

Deafening screams ricocheted off the gray, blood-smeared cement walls.  My body became blanketed with a cold sweat, that made it hard to decide whether I was warm or freezing.  I received small glances of my surroundings as the strobe light blinded me.  My nose was filled with a pungent odor, making it impossible to breathe.  I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, but I was wrong.

My heart began to race faster than a cheetah, my legs were numb, and I couldn’t tell whether or not I was actually running. The feeling of the crisp and hot summer air quickly entering my lungs felt rough, while the air was escaping even faster. As I struggle to look behind to see if he was close enough to get me I tried to exclaim while trying to grasp some air for my lungs, “Xouse, he’s gaining, on us, come on!”. As the hot asphalt burnt the bottom of my shoes off, I continued running into the alley of two apartment complexes as my cousin followed. I looked at Xouse, I saw the agony on his face, my vision went blurry, next thing I knew I was standing in front of a wall, with nowhere to go. I looked back to see if we were finally safe, and then I knew, I should have never left the by myself.

Glysdi tripped over a trash bag, hearing clanking as she sprawled on her lawn. Curious, she sat up and reached for the bag, searching for an opening. Inevitably, a protruding shard cut her palm, but the pain didn’t come to her. At age 11, Glysdi saw the cheap brand names on the beer bottle piece. She went back into her house, walking slowly past her mother seemingly unconscious on the sofa, her snores loud and irregular. The quiet inside the bathroom comforted her immediately as she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Tear drops mingled with blood as she tried to scrub off the metallic smell on her hand.

“There was a boy who ran in here who I followed,” I said impatiently. “That-that thing got to him first. I don’t know what happened to him.”

A chorus of screams goes up into the air as people race to find the nearest shelter. The sirens are just as loud as their yells and beating hearts. A girl ran along-side them, the scent of ashes and sweat clinging to her. A faded locket pounds against her chest as she turns the corner into an alleyway.

A child with round, rosy cheeks scampers over to me a little while later. He peers into my eyes and tilts his head to the side. It’s as if I’m an unknown creature he’s seeing for the first time. He brings a gloved hand close to my face, but before he can touch me a shout is heard from behind him. He’s tugged away from me

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" he said aloud, only to gasp as a small object brushed against his leg.

“Sorry, mister, for runnin’ into you. I wasn’t looking and…and…” She spoke so rapidly it took all my attention to figure out what she said. The whole speech was directed to her well-worn boots, but I could see the tears racing down her dirty face.