Personal Narrative

His size 27 jeans look as if they might fall off of him at any given moment, and if it weren’t for his lengthy torso I’m sure he would need a kids size in shirts. His bones portrude from his skin bringing his veins to the surface. I swear you can see the blood flow through them. His cheeks cave in bringing his facial structure out like knives. I worry that if I touch them they might slice my delicate skin. It’s been doing it to him for years. As my eyes meet the dark hooded ovals that look almost like a home of what once belonged to a bat, I see a light.

The steps in the foyer make creeping noise and to walk down the steps to look out the peep hole is earth shattering. you think to yourself, "Is it him? Will he hear me? Does he have a gun and will he shoot me through the door if he hears me there?"

It was a dark and stormy night. I, Jonathan Harker, was shaking and I didn't know what was going on. I was seeing terrifying shadows around my room. Also, last night, I thought a person or a thing was behind me, but I couldn't see its reflection through the mirror. I didn't know what to do, so I started packing.

The man wears a bear pelt upon his head. The teeth of the bear fall down on his forehead, matching the dirt and grime. His eyes are oddly spaced, as if they are too far away from each other and just want to be closer. His nose is wide with constantly flared nostrils. He bares his canine-like teeth at everyone as they walk by. The teeth are one of the most interesting points about him. They are completely made up of canines, even though he is human, almost as if he has evolved into a subspecies of man. His face most likely hasn’t been washed in years, and he smells like a forest. A long, scraggly beard flows off his face, matted with sweat. Eyes glowing with fire, he looks ready to kill.

We run down the stairs as fast as we can. The house is still shaking. The door we entered is nowhere to be found now. Everything is switched around. I'm panicking and so are they. The once pitch black room starts to lighten up. There is light seeping through all the cracks and crevices in the room, It's the middle of the night though. Even with the help of the light we still can't find a door. ¨Hey! Over here! I found a window!¨ William yells.

The night had fallen by the time she remembered that she neglected to bring in her statistics textbook from the previous day. Exiting the pale yellow house with a brick porch, walking on the dead front lawn to the white Subaru Legacy handed down to her from her deceased parents, she noticed a black SUV park a few houses down the street. By the time she was unlocking the car, a man departed the SUV without turning the headlights off, as if he planned on getting back in at a startling speed after collecting something. He was dressed head to toe in black, but, she lacked the ability to make out any facial features while he stood quietly and sternly, feeling as if he was watching her every move.

The only thing that could be heard was the gentle autumn breeze rubbing against the colorful leaves of autumn. At the time, I was wearing my simple red T-Shirt, slightly worn out due to extreme use, blue jeans that had all the blue bleached out of them, white Kyrie 3’s and white socks, complimented with a cinnamon scented, cheap, and not very effective cologne, which was so strong it invoked a sort of acidic taste in the taste receptors of the upper surface of my tongue. As the silhouette approached me taking huge, three step strides at a steady and consistent, six miles per hour pace, I deciphered that it was not a lifeless and ghastly silhouette rather a man in all black who blended in with the night sky and the young moon which allowed just enough reflection to make him look as a silhouette from the previous distance. He was wearing a buttoned shirt, about 5 ounces in weight like that of the stereotypical detective jacket, and was a rather brawny fellow appearing to weigh around 180-220 pounds and was around six feet, five inches. He was rather an ostentatious fellow, wearing a Gucci belt and two black diamond earrings of an unnamed brand on each ear. His pants were black, Men’s Wearhouse dressing pants, slightly torn at the knees reveling his rather peach

The man had yellow eyes similar to that of jaundice with cat-like pupils. His hair was greasy, comb-over type wavy brown hair that hadn’t been washed in weeks. His body was a bit pudgy also, taller than most people. He had fangs like that of a vampire, his favorite meal was the dreams of children. He talked with a stutter and enjoyed watching and playing with the most venomous spiders in the world.

The man standing before him was unusually small, with almost animal like features and thick dark hair covering the backs of his hands. He stood hunched over and his reddish hair looked to have never seen a brush. His clothing was no better, the coat torn and stained and his vest unbuttoned. His blue, feral, eyes fairly glowed with lust.

The hair of this man was long and matted, and his head slanted back under it from the eyes. He uttered strange sounds, and seemed very much afraid of the darkness, into which he peered continually, clutching in his hand, which hung midway between knee and foot, a stick with a heavy stone made fast to the end. He was all but naked, a ragged and fire-scorched skin hanging part way down his back, but on his body there was much hair. In some places, across the chest and shoulders and down the outside of arms and thighs, it was matted into almost a thick fur. He did not stand erect, but with trunk inclined forward from the hips, on legs that bent at the knees.

One morning, Erin Sullivan awoke in the early hours of the morning like she did every other day. But today was different than the others, because on this particular day her life would be changed forever. As Erin stretched underneath her thick blankets under the gentle wind of the fan above her bed, she felt different. She felt taller, bigger in a sense. Her room still dark, the thin curtains struggling to hold the light at bay, Erin reached for a light switch, although she wasn’t prepared for what would happen next. Erin screeched as the light encompassed the room around her, yelped was more like it. As she shifted her gaze to her hand, she no longer saw her tanned skin, she saw thickly coated black hair. Her fingers morphed together into a paw, her nails grown sharp and menacing over night, curled into claws. Erin ripped off the blankets, exposing her new body to her eyes for the first time. Black hair, long tail, and four legs, Erin was horrified by what she saw.

I brought my hands up to my aching skull, eager to massage away the pain, when I felt a mysterious, sticky substance along my temple. I couldn’t see much through the soot and haze of our disfigured classroom, but eventually I realized what the warm substance was. Blood. My own blood. I brought my hand back to my temple, tracing and retracing the extensive gash that marred the left side of my face. Distantly, I heard a rough voice calling out the names of my classmates. Of what I could see, which was very little, there was no hints leading to the identity of the person other than their indistinct outline against the obscure background.

Little did I know that as an adult I would grow up to play that silly, annoying and pointless game of telephone. Although, this time it was not among five friends on the playground. The adult version was a giant, Costco-sized, City-wide version of the game.

At the sound of someone banging on the front door, I abandon the plant and sweep my gaze over to the door; I sit up and stare at it, willing myself to develop x-ray vision to identify the uninvited guest. My heart pounds in my chest as visions of demons from my past invade my mind. “They found me,” I whisper.

My eyes stayed half shut and the creme colored silk curtains blew with the wind. I could feel a pair of eyes locked in on the back of my head, and it felt like someone was watching me. Crack! A strike of lightning sounded outside of my window and suddenly my palms began to sweat and the hairs on my neck stood at attention. Chills shot through my body and there he was, the man stood there scratching his grey and pepper tinted beard while his silver locks of hair flowed with the wind entering through the crack in the window. Clenching my comforter and breathing heavily, I sat up and began sweating while I questioned, “Wh...wh...who are you?”