Personal Narrative Fiction

Your brows furrowed when you saw what sat in the middle of a circle of light, illuminating the strange creature whose overly-excited eyes landed on you. Freezing, you couldn’t help by slightly shiver under its unwavering gaze. Its smile seemed to widen for just a second before a it quickly threw on a look of concern. A jolly voice then spoke up.

There was something wrong with the car, once it kept bouncing up and down for the past 5 minutes and it also kept turning sharply by itself. Poppa finally had enough, and went to check what it was. He came back, shaking, and I could see tears starting to form in his eyes. He said the pipes are completely filled with dust, and rocks, and there is no way we can move. We started to freak out, because we have no way to get home, and there is a chance we never see tomorrow. We were on State Street, at least I knew that, even though that doesn’t help out the

“Oh my God,” he said softly. A toy radio-controlled car with its hood off was wired to the stereo. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing and triggered it precisely when they wanted to. In fact, Denny looked out the open windows, whoever did it was probably watching him right now.

Lassiter started in the direction of Shawn's calls and they found Shawn and Gus within seconds. Shawn was

Evan moved his Pontiac swiftly and surreptitiously through the back roads as he made his return to Alex’s place. He wasn’t sure if Michael was still in the vicinity and he had no idea of just what he would do if he was. A shootout, he supposed was how it would play out, but if that would be the case; he thought it might be smart to stop off for reinforcements. He could rob one of the local gun stores. That would surely hit two birds with one stone, allowing him to arm himself to the teeth while simultaneously letting Michael know where to find him. Naw, won’t work, Evan thought. As soon as I set those alarms off, I’ll have not only Michael to deal with but at least a hundred troopers as well who will be looking for payback.

As I was drifting off into what would have been a peaceful sleep the roar of an engine in the distance woke me up.

engine, I stepped on the hot black asphalt. I look behind the car at the boat almost brighter at the sight of the lake, but that’s just my imagination. I look in the direction of a car door slamming.

"Imara!" I moaned in pain and felt my head. "Imara!" I dug into my pockets and pulled out my flashlight. I turned it on and shone it around. "Where am I?" Alister sighed in relief. "Why didn't you answer me? I thought you died." I was currently sitting in a half circle room that led only one way. "I don't know. There's only one path." I stood up expecting pain but my leg felt normal. I patted my arm and again everything was fine. "How long was I out?" I pointed my light into the tunnel. "A while."

A tipper truck manned by a drunk driver had hurtled its way into his path, and his brain couldn’t handle the suddenness of his seeming death, so up in his head, there was chaos and havoc and volcanoes erupted. It was his final seizure. Paralysed, he could only watch, as the truck approached, uncontrollable, and he desperately tried to take over his body, move! Move! Move! And his body ignored him. And he thought of Emily, and how he loved her, and how he might never see her ever again, and he struggled against the death-grip his body had over him. And he broke free. Only, it was too late. The truck rammed into his beautiful, beautiful car with spectacular leather interiors through to his beautiful, beautiful life. His last hope was that the letter he had written for her would get to her. At least, she would know. And he was grateful; he had learnt from KB and TLE that he was one lucky person. At least, his parents weren’t serial killers

He showed Lassie to the bedroom and looked down at the floor, not wanting to see his reaction to the horrible place he called home. When he didn't say anything though Shawn looked up to find him staring out the window by the bed. This was the only other window in the house and it had a great view of the beach.

Watching the Sheriff’s car pull out to the lane, Casey went back in heading for the study.

He swallowed, and shook his head, that fragrance still with him, this wasn't happening. He eyed the car again, gone, the blood stains and grisly image were gone. He slapped his cheek trying to focus.

This man in the car is so drunk he does not even realize that the car has stopped moving; furthermore, he even fails to recognize that the wheel is no longer a part of the car. The people behave carelessly and rudely at Gatsby's parties. They only go to his house

On account of it wasn’t his desk and he had important pharmaceutical related presentations to study for, Gus let it go. A little disappointed from the lack of reaction, Shawn attempted to busy himself with the art of paper folding as they waited for a job instead.

As the rain picked up, the windshield fogged over. The heat didn't work in the old car, and Sarah reached forward as she drove down the familiar route, wiping the condensation off the windshield with her hand, so she could see. When she caught sight of the rode ahead, she slammed on the brakes, seeing the light in front of her had turned abruptly to red. As they slid to a stop on the worn old tires, a thump in the back seat made Sarah's gut clench with sickened dread.