Personal Narrative-Brendon

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Brendon is in the motel room after a show. They're in northern Oregon, and there's

a long tour across the country ahead of them. It's late and he's exhausted. The

other guys had went out to a club, but the first show of the tour had taken it's

tole on him . He ends up sprawled out over the queen sized mattress in a comfy

pair of grey boxers in his hotel room. He hadn't bothered to get dressed after

showering. After all, no one would be bothering him until the day after tomorrow,

so there's really no point, and he's had a long night. He thinks back to how the

girl had thrown herself at him as he was getting ready to get back on the bus, and

the security team had struggled to hold her back. She fucking bit the dude holding

her …show more content…

He sighs and shifts, rolls over onto his stomach and to let the city noise lull

him to sleep over the occasional siren (are there more than usual tonight?), but

he's having trouble. Every time he gets close to drifting off, another siren

echoes and jolts him awake.
"Fuckin' shut up," he groans, reaching out and slapping around on the bed for a

moment until he finds another pillow which he abruptly jams over his head in a

futile attempt to drown out the noise of yet another ambulance. He wonders if

there was like, a car crash or something. Or maybe a fire. It's a lot of sirens

for one crash. Either way, he wishes that they would hurry up and take care of it

so he could sleep. But hours pass, and it's almost five in the morning when he

finally falls asleep. He doesn't wake up for nearly 12 hours.
When he finally awakes, he's groggy. He rubs his eyes and runs his hand through

his hair, pushing it out of his face and stumbles to the little kitchen. He starts

a pot of coffee and waits for it to go off, but in the mean time, settles for

watching the sun filter in from between the blinds and slowly create gold …show more content…

But that's not what makes Brendon's stomach clench. Half of his

fucking neck and face seems to be missing. Brendon thinks his ear is completely

gone. He can see the muscles in his neck, and there's blood everywhere, spurting

out and dripping down the glass.
He screams something again, and Brendon is definitely going to get up, help him

inside and call 911, just as soon as he can fucking breathe again, but right as he

stumbles backwards towards the desk, another person comes up from behind and grabs

the guy by his shoulder and sinks her teeth right into his neck, yanks and oh, now

he has a matching hole on the other side, Brendon thinks numbly and his mouth

falls open in a silent scream.
Two more people appear, and they grab onto whatever part of him they can reach,

piling on and digging their teeth into his flesh until he collapses under them

with another bloodcurdling scream, sliding out of view below the window sill.
Brendon is still for a heartbeat, before he is emptying the contents of his

stomach on the floor. When he finishes, he's kneeling on the floor, tears in his

eyes. He scrambles backwards, falling on his ass more times than he can

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