Personal Narrative

I’m bound into a vicious cycle of obscurity so deep that the choice was luminous. I seem less than myself, but at the same time, I can feel relaxed- even self-righteous, believing that I, a mere mortal, am immanent within this existing plane… And, I ask, Why must we face reality and not become lost in the gray abyss of our mind when it returns to the dawn of darkness from whence it came? Truly, it is comforting there…

The darkness is slowly scaring me making me feel overwhelmed. I can’t see anything. I feel suffocated and musty with all these boxes stocked next to me and on top of me. I’ve been here for so long and I feel so hopeless and useless. Then suddenly a bright light shines on me and I finally feel free from this very comfortless home. I wish someone would open this lid on top of me so I can breath in fresh air. But here I am staying strong and just patiently waiting. Then suddenly, I am lifted, opened, and place on top of a flat surface. I feel so nervous. I am hearing human voices. My wish is granted. It is my time, and I am free!

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

My mother had quiet a lot of brothers and sisters, there was nine in all.. Mother said most of her brothers and sisters married out of their parents house in Sampson City, moving into one of the houses owned by a man named Mr. Hogan, In these days the houses were called quarters, which consisted of one or two bed rooms and a kitchen all sat in a row. The families living in those little houses worked for Mr. Hogan who was the BOSS MAN. All the men worked at the Turpentine steel, that was owned by Mr. Hogan. They paid no rent and received a very small salary for their labor. Sundays after church was the relaxing time. We would visit with family and friends. In that time we did not own cars in that time, we did not have to go out in shop. The

I go to the woods to calm down ,take a break from the drama. My dad used to take me to this special spot where these rocks split and you can stem to the top of them and sit down. For some reason the view and the feel is so peaceful. There's a dip in the rock perfect size for my body. I'll kick back and look up at the sky and sometimes, it’s rare though i’ll listen to music and sometimes fall asleep and when I wake up i'm refreshed and calm. Sometimes i'll stay there after i'm calm and just chill and sometimes if a friend comes over well sometimes go over there and we'll play around on the rocks and talk and after a little bit of hanging out we will go back inside and play my PS4 for a little bit and after the gaming we are still bored we

I hear noises coming from my room, I walk upstairs and see that the door is closed, I peer in, “I don’t know where Donnie is my lord”, Sarah talks into a silver flip up transmitter, “find him, I need him alive” Bob says angrily. I shut the door, but it made a loud sound, Sarah looks over and thinks, oh no, my cover is blown. I walk out to the backyard and stand facing the back fence looking out onto the ocean, thinking how did I miss that she is a cleaner? A few minutes later Sarah comes out and stands next to me, “you had me going when you told me about your dream yesterday” I said, “How can I trust you now?” I continue. “Yes it’s true, I am a cleaner” she admits, “I was going to tell you, I swear Donnie”, “when? Right before you kill me” I asked. “The truth is, I don’t want to be a cleaner anymore, I hate it” she starts to tear up, “and then I met you, and thought my life could be different”, “and I’m supposed to believe that?” I asked, “yes” she answers, I look deep into her eyes and see no trace that she is lying “yes it’s true I was supposed to bring you back to Og to be killed, but I fell in love with you the moment I say you”.

She dropped me on the floor and the fear sank deep into me. I am not afraid of dying but this would not be dying this, this would be toture. As I lay stuck to the floor, the flies began to gather around me, they feasted on my flesh and as my body began to decay, I contemplated my life. I was born burning, my whole body was on fire, a melted goo pumped with e numbers and colouring then I was forced onto an artificial paper body to cool into a apple green glass-like ball. I met her when we put into the sweet jar, she was the love of my life, we spent hazy summer day sitting and talking and falling in love until the day when the sweets where tipped out and she was taken. The only thing that meant something, the voice I could hear in a sea of sound shouting for attention and now she's gone. I remember the pain, my family, my one true love, sacrificed for a cheap sugar rush. Was it worth it? Was it the pain and torment? The insanity I delved into praying to die, for this misery to end and even in my dreams she still screams for my help, I was her final prayer and I just stood by and watch her die. I can feel my body being eaten away, I've counted five nights of this agony but soon it'll all be over; I've descreased considiraly and it'll only be a matter of time

The whispers, the wailing. Telling nothing, revealing nothing, merely tormenting my bleeding soul, my shattered soul, a constant pouring of salt into the gaping wounds of my already shriveling heart. I would never be at peace, no rest for the wicked. I lay on my bed, the voices in my head telling me of all that was meaningless in my life. 'nothing can save you; nothing ever would. All is meaningless, nothing has true worth. You are meaningless.' Meaningless. Meaningless. Worthless, hopeless, friendless, faithless. Tears drop on my blanket, one by one, as I ponder on the screams in my head. I have been hearing these screams since the original shattering of my soul, when I was merely a child. I was hardly more than a child now, aged

Light bleeds into darkness as I take my first shuddering steps into the world of

I have had many joyful and equally traumatic experiences in my life which I can easily remember. I have been through a flood, gone to emergency care in the hospital, had an allergic reaction, etc. These experiences helped shape me into who I am, my beliefs, how I speak and act around others, and they each created a separate part of my identity.

After a while, I opened my eyes and looked around however could scarcely see anything.“Not again, please!”, I wished wretchedly. A sharp feeling of menace lurking in the darkness inundated me. My earlier hope of peaceful embrace was progressively and gradually darkening until I noticed some lights above. I looked carefully and kept observing in wonder some tiny twinkling holes sprayed on a dark canvas. It seemed speaking to me with a peculiar language of luminescent glow, with words settling upon everything and phrases calming me down without the least effort of understanding it . It was above me, all around, and it even seemed below wrapping me. I sighed profoundly and gazed upon it turning my face to drink passionately from its gentle glow. I knew at that moment I was not alone and was safe under such watchful eyes.

At the start of my last year in middle school, a transfer student from China who was unfamiliar with English mustered up all her courage, approached me, and introduced herself with the best English she could manage. This action would later on welcome me to witness her world of resilience. Her name was Amy, and throughout her journey through eighth grade, she faced a lot of adversity with peers around her. No matter how difficult the obstacle was, she had always pushed through with all her effort. This narrative will introduce the resilience that Amy portrayed throughout her first year of school in America.

It all began last Friday. The time was nearing midnight, but the television was still blaring infomercials and crime shows. My older sister, Laura, and I had been watching movies for the past few hours.

" ABBY! " The woman yelled at the small brunette girl playing around in the yard. " Get up here and help now!!" I didn't listen. I was never going away. I looked up at my mum wearily and saw her whisper something to my brother. I knew I was going , no matter what. I had no choice. Mum and Dad didn't have a care in the world. They were going to make me go anyway.

I once became friends with a ghost named Henry, he was or still is nicely haunting a hotel in Georgia. Another time I befriended a ghost named Cecilia, she was in the process of moving on, but I didn't have the heart to tell her she wasn't doing it right. She wasn't making peace, she was creating more attachments.