Personal Narrative-Bottle Caps And Expensive Jewelry

As I looked up, the sky was dark the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlights. The sound of crickets and cars echoing through my ears. I walked home that night, tears in my eyes. I was leaving, I couldn’t handle it anymore. The meds, doctors, psychiatrists nothing was working, our lives were in constant danger. By the time I got home the car was gone. By the time, I finished packing it was dawn. The sun creeping in through the shutters. For the next couple of days, I crashed at Jason’s before I headed South. I heard my cell ringing, it was mom… I let it go to voicemail.

Josie took it tentatively in her hand, she could feel the difference in her grip with her slightly off finger, it actually felt a little better, her grip more sure.

I lay back down, glad that I had given her the anklet. I can’t believe how much she will miss me, even though we haven’t been that close lately, I thought as I drifted to sleep. I will really miss her, too.

“Rabia wake up now; we have to go. She’s gone,” my mother said without another word. Within moments, I was standing in my best friend’s apartment at seven in the morning on Memorial Day. I stood there in the living room, unable to stop the tears from flowing as I watched the most terrifying moment of my life take place in front of my eyes. My muscles were tense; I clenched my jaw as my teeth began grinding uncontrollably. I tried so hard to mute the cries of others. Confusion had taken over my body so much so that I entered a state of numbness and could no longer feel any emotion. I have never had to use so much willpower to digest what was happening around me.

The fistful of hair wrapped snugly in a vice-like grip was beginning to bring tears to my eyes; however, he burning pain that shot through my scalp was nothing compared to the burning deep in my heart. The wails of a woman, presumably my mother, but possibly my own, were stuck in a never ending loop, consisting of pleas and indistinguishable sobs that made my head throb. The light yellow walls of the kitchen and the deep red shade of the door came into focus through bleary eyes, causing panic to constricted around my chest like a

I dreaded coming home, it was the worst thing I could imagine and as i grew the feeling didn’t change. I would get out of bed quietly not wanting to wake up my mother, my bruises are still healing from yesterday’s beatings. I go to my closet and put on a black, long-sleeved shirt to cover up the scars, a pair of jeans to cover the hurt and a pair of hand-me-down sneakers. I quickly tip-toe past my mom’s room, only to see her lying there, sound asleep with an empty wine glass slowly slipping out of her hand. I grab my book bag and walk out the door and to the bus stop. I walked through the hallways, to each class and I hear the nasty comments and the rumors, secretly believing every word they say. I walked to lunch a sit alone as people pull

“Can I have this?” Livi asked politely. She wouldn’t give it up no matter what.

Merlin noticed her distress and squeezed her hand. "Everything I've gone through made me who I am now. Destiny hasn't always been kind to me—until she led me to you."

reached to the back seat, and grabbed her pack, she reached in and pulled the necklace out.

The week before Anabelle and I moved out into the city, I felt the nerves, the jittering butterflies of happiness, and the warm hugs our parents gave us in the limited time that we had left. The week after we settled and moved into our new apartment If I had known what was to come, however, I never would have departed from my parents. All the good memories I and Anabelle shared throughout our lives, were taken away, all vanquished because of one night. Those hours of darkness that which we spent out, I wish so much that we could take back. It was supposed to be a night of fun, an awakening of our new lives as adolescents, but what happened instead was a tragedy. In the blink of an eye, I was gone. My soul, my body, my entirety, erased. And so was Anabelle’s.

She Intertwines her fingers with Lexa’s “Why don’t you want it back? It’s so soft, I’m sure it’s by some Italian fancy brand”

“Give it back!” she screamed, tugging on my arm. I ripped my hand from hers and jumped on the table, narrowly missing our lunch spread out.

He picked up the darker strand as she rubbed at her eyes. "It's started," he said, showing her the strand.

Seymour was walking briskly through down a dark sidewalk. He was in the scary part of town, a place where people like Seymour do not belong. He picked up his pace to a jog when he heard a shout. His route home lead him closer and closer to the yells of pain. His heart was beating out of his chest. He ran until he got to the house where they noise was coming from. A normal person would keep running faster, but Seymour stopped. He realized the sound was crying. It wasn’t a happy cry, a painful cry or a your-favorite-TV-show-just-ended cry. He knew this cry he knew all too well. It was a cry for just pure sadness. It wasn’t because your dog died or your boyfriend dumped you sad. It was a complete loss of hope sad. The type of sad that eats away at you painfully slow. Seymour would know that cry anywhere.

"Jacques dinner is ready!" I knew that voice, too well, it was Rose and she had gotten closer. I had no idea where I was, I had no idea which way to go, I was able to walk for some insane reason, so I walked as quietly as I could in what I had hoped would be as far away from Rose as possible. There were so many trees, I was for sure getting lost,