Personal Narrative Fiction

she was crying but she seemed to feel overwhelmed with her life. Her husband had come home

When Alma heard her name called, she broke free of the mesmerizing kiss. Running toward the house, she felt the first mist of rain and was grateful. Gabe released her hand as soon as they reached the yard.

The night went by like a breeze. Mr. Conrad and Mr. Wright finally resolved their pointless dispute, and Abigail was feeling better than ever. Dan gave her medicine once again last night, and it helped a great amount. It seemed like a normal, daily routine now. If it is going to continue, I am surely not going to adjust quickly. Giving our daughter

His mother sat next to him and softly whispered into his ear, “Its okay… shut up”. Al hugged his mother, breathing in the scent of parsley that seemed to cling to her clothes. For the first time in his life, despite feeling humiliated, he felt reassured that his mother would always be there for him.

Jonas looked at her as he tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. So many tears were shed today and so many more to come.

Although Audra wanted to remain alert and enjoy the ride to the seaside home, drowsiness claimed her and she nodded off with her head resting against Maxen’s shoulder. She was vaguely aware of him pulling up their blanket up to her chin, but then fell into a deep slumber with peace in her heart and the welcome sense she was loved and protected.

“Isn't that wonderful?” Mike said. They both hugged and gazed upon their newborn child. They had done it. They had made it through their tough time.

A devious roar of laughter filled the room. “Oh, hell no. I’ll take care of this later. The night is young and we’re just getting started.”

We semi-finished our meals and I was shocked. He actually did remember. Macoroni and cheese. Specifically what I oredered that day, the first day we met. Three years seems so far.

“Oh! Sorry sire. We wouldn't want to scare them away, now would we?” The servant said in his normal

Stomping up the stairs Nia yells, “ You’re not the boss of me!” And slams her bedroom door shut. Heavily breathing Nia grasped for air. Trying to control her breathing, she places her hand on her chest. Tears ride down her face quickly like a river flow. Not knowing how to stop Nia constantly wipes her face.

“Stop.” He interrupted again. He shook her arm away, finally turning to face her. She looked into the trenches of his eyes and was about to console him when thunder came once more. His neck snapped back towards the window and the trees. He finished his second glass wine and slumped in his chair, one hand covering his left eye.

They woke up to shuffling feet and breaking sticks. A thick layer of steam shrouded the large basket, and the fire was going strong. Toke rose and stretched his back. “Surprisingly, that was a very nice sleep. My back is killing me, and I’m coated in dirt, but it wasn’t that bad.”

Hazel lay on the stone cold bed with a white cover trimmed with lace. The blanket covered her frail body, and each breath she took felt like an eternity. She shivered, and goosebumps ran up and down her arms. The room around her was grey and musty making it difficult for her to breath. It was dull, for there were no Windows, nor were there doors. Hazel looked around and had no idea where she was or how she would escape. Then she gazed down at her hands and saw chains. Her wrists were raw and bruised where the cuffs clung to her arm. She caught another glimpse of the room. How had she gotten in if there was no way out?

“Ah, well, you were great, but...ah, the 43 puppies that you didn't save this morning and all that, you know?” She babbles, but the thanks still shone from her eyes. She turns to make a hasty retreat, waving nervously over her shoulder, not wanting to be the cause of my Fall.