Personal Narrative Fiction

"Woah." Jasper said in a surprised tone as he stumbled back a little, his hand on his head in pain. You immediately step towards him in concern and hold him steady. Murphy scoffed in the background, but you decided to ignore it as Jasper was your only concern at the

He looked up at me as I tried to reassure him that he was going to be okay. “Help is on the way.” I could feel the fear in his eyes.

“Shaun, you know I can’t let you operate on anyone right after you’ve been in a traumatic event.” Melendez could see Shaun’s shoulders begin to tense up. “Tell you what. Go sit in the waiting room. Catch your breath an-“

"I think you broke it. It looks bad." Matt sighed, he made a makeshift splint for my hand. "We will go to the clinic tomorrow to get it checked out." Matt informed. "Let's try to get some sleep." He nodded as he guided me to our small cabin. He helped me take off my shoes, jacket and helped me into bed. Matt climbed in bed beside me, before blowing out the lantern on his nightstand. His arms made their way around my waist, he pulled me close, careful not to hurt me.

Matt responded, "Don't you remember, we have to get up to Ripping Hill before the eighth graders,if we don't were going to get creamed, don't you remember", Matt asked.Anna got out of bed, walked over to her window, and opened the curtains.At

“Matt was in an accident. He was riding his motorcycle and a car came out of nowhere and hit him head on,” she said to my grandma, now talking a mile a minute.

“Uhhhehhh.” John murmured something. I can’t hear him but I can tell he’s hurting bad. I tilt my head and lean in towards him. My last piece of hope vanishes as John falls silent. Covered

“You nasty brat.” he says. He’s better than you’ll ever be! Right as I say that he grabs me neck and punches me right in the mouth. Blood starts running out of my nose. All I can see is my dad walk away and swig some sort of liquor. I stand up as fast as I can and race out the door to my car. All I can think of is get to Matt’s house. By now tears are streaming down my face. As i pull up I see Matt’s room light on. I get out and run through the front door.

“She should pull through just fine,” one of the firemen answered as they approached the awaiting paramedics. “Hell of a day for you kids,” he added. Before Becca was able to ask anything else, the fireman picked up his beeping radio and began a lengthy conversation. The other fireman was already long gone.

“That’s okay. I’m Dylan. Dylan Siro,” he said, nodding his head with a polite smile. “Oh and you’re going to need this.” He stuck his hand in his boot, pulled something shiny out, and placed it in my hand. The heavy object he gave me was a small plasma pistol. I didn’t know much about the weapons we brought with us, but one thing I did know was that the plasma guns were the most destructive.

Nux watched the desert go by through his side window, letting his mind wander. During the time with the Wives, he had seen so much. He had obviously seen different groups of people before, the ones that he and the other War Boys fought and killed when out in battle or on supply runs. At the time, all he saw them as were threats, angry beasts to challenge him on his way the Gates of Valhalla. Something put there to prove his worth.

Suddenly nervous that there was a stranger in the room, Johnny became silent and moved as best as he could towards Roy. Sensing the anxiety, Roy held Johnny’s hand.

“Okay,” Ethan said, three minutes later. “I’ve got the address. 820 Swan Street we should be there in a few more minutes. “So, I guess you were right Howie. It really was this Hellhound-werewolf thing.”

They all say I'm crazy. I'm not crazy I just see things differently, that's all. Not anything particularly different, I just like to tell myself that I'm not like anyone else, which of course is true. Jean isn't like anyone else either. Jean is different, like me of course. I hate Jean, but Jean and I are great friends. My mother hates it when I tell her about my friend Jean. I don't know why. My mother must be crazy. To stop my crazy mother from yelling at me when I talk about Jean, I'm going to tell my journal instead. On the tv I saw a young girl write in her journal and all her problems went away. Jean didn't seems to like this idea, but Jean doesn't control me. I will just hide it from him.

When you moved to Beacon Hills, you immediately discovered to population of dirty dogs. On your first day at your new school, you were constantly cringing at their stench. On your second day, you cornered one of them in the gym.