Personal Narrative: Fulks Home

I looked forward to this trip every single year. Driving to get there was almost better than the camping trip itself. The road had big hills that made your stomach drop on the way down, and I always pretended I was on a roller coaster. At the top of one of those hills, there was a wooden sign, painted brown with yellow letters, all in capitals, that said “WICKLUND’S CAMPGROUND”. The driveway was a simple, downhill dirt road that had a bend at the bottom of the decline. Driving around that corner, you could always see the lake sparkling through the thin line of trees because the sun was always shining. It was cloudy that day.

"You can't keep holding on to stuff like this, James." Natasha sighed, slipping a delicate hand through her hair. "It's not healthy."

I left my radio in the back room in was most likely with the volunteer who was covering for me. He yelled at me to "get up" and told me lets talk in Joshs' office (which was a few steps away). Daniel storms in Joshs' office, turns on the light and sits down in the office chair in front of the desk with his arms crossed and a sticky note in his hand. I follow him and prop the door open with the door stop is I say "lets keep the door open it's hot in here." The real reason I did this was because I was extremely uncomfortable. He then yells, "Do you want to tell me where you have been?". I was standing in the door way, not completely in the room when I told him that I met with HR. He asked very angrily who I got permission to leave from and then stated that I left my post without permission.

Day 1: After such problems of reaching the community director at Azalea, I told my group to go the place instead of calling. Only two people kept saying that we should continue to call, which was really annoying because they did not even try to call, it was always me. But after convincing them, we went and we finally meet Mickey who is the director of events. She explained to us that their schedule was very tight because they have many things planned for the residents. After speaking to her, we decided on coming two times and present three topics each time so that it made a total of six visits.

This story is not like any other. It stands alone. Love and hate are not spoken about, yet felt through the words. This road is long with unexpected twist and turns. Words will be left unsaid but their absence will not make a difference. This is a story that was never meant to reach the light of day. Your story is now open. Terror and joy engulf your body as you read.

Abbey Bominable rubbed her eyes, stretching as the warm sunlight washed over her through the apartment window. As she brushed some wisps of hair from her face, she noticed Heath whispering something very quietly. Brow furrowing, she sat up, seeing that Heath had brought their baby boy into bed with them. Heath was trying to get Icer to smile, something the little baby had recently started doing. However, Icer just stared at his father curiously and tried to stick his fingers into his mouth. Abbey smiled, stroking Icer's head lovingly.

“I Allen Moira, take you Cecillia to be my wife. I promise to cherish you for all my days. I vow to live for you, and do everything I can to ensure your happiness. No matter how dark things may become I promise to be your light that leads you to safety. I love you, Cecilia. Do you accept me as your husband?”

Checking the time on the wall clock while exiting my last class for the day, I move out the back door to the fine arts building.

He’s standing there with a silence that is so unfamiliar, I am drawn to break it, but it just sits. The night is dark, the air is crisp and he leads me to a bench like the many benches we use to find comfort in.

'I had to brush the snow off of then main door's handles- which I guess was a sick reminder of how people seldom came to visit and seldom got to leave. It was an old building with what I hoped was an outdated sign. The doors were heavy and difficult to pull open, but I hadn't expected anything less. A wave of regret and cold shivers came over me as I took my first step into Winterwood. The air was dry and much hotter than the bus and for a split second I had the urge to turn around to see if it was still there. From the exact moment that I looked upon the sanitarium I had an overwhelming sense of fear. The feeling hasn't gone away since.

The small leaking sink in the corner is hypnotic. Drip, drip, drip echoing through the cold concrete room keeping my mind settled like soothing background music. The striped shadows on the floor are confusing my eyes. I began to awaken my mind as I realised where I am. I feel the cooled air in my skin as I hear the faint sound of footsteps getting louder and louder. Eventually stopping right outside the once quiet room. I hear the sound of keys as the man looks through them and the click as he unlocks the door letting the door roll open with the eerie sound of rusty hinges.

July 2nd. Leaving the house in the early morning with the sun barely shining as it is coming out from its hiding place behind the trees, my mother, Magvern (my brother), and I were taken to LA Greyhound station. Walking inside with our luggages tailing behind us, we see families clustering around the ticket and information desk. With our already printed tickets in hand, we walk toward the baggage check before entering the waiting station for the bus. As we wait for our departure, my brother took out his phone and my mom starts to crochet while I am left to my demise. Out of boredom, I start to text my cousins; however, no was awake yet. Staring at the blank screen it felt like hours were passing by. Finally, I saw an icon flashing, Lily was on! The moment did not last

When we got home I took a nap on the couch and several hours past.I woke up scared because I was 50 feet tall bigger than the house.I couldn't believe what happend to me.My first thoughts was when I talk to the old lady about the cookies.I remember what she said about these cookies that they will make you grow,I was surprised it really

I am surrounded, with no food or water and I am running out of ammo. My guards were killed a couple hours ago. I don't have much time, if anyone gets this tell my family I love them.

I guess it was about four years that had passed since I had moved away from Stuytown and my friends and acquaintances, when I came for one of my visits. I would visit with mommom and gramps which basically meant I slept in their apartment, ate their food and shat in their toilet. Then the rest of the day I would hang with Kevin and/or Jimmy and maybe stop in on Paul, run across Jimmy, shoot a few hoops with Chris, and perhaps an emergency– shat in one of their bowls.