Personal Narrative: Home

I woke up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and went down stairs and called my friend Joey Gliech and said “Today is the day!”

I HAD BEEN ASLEEP QUITE SOUNDLY FOR A COUPLE HOURS, WHEN I WAS AWOKEN BY AN ALL TOO FAMILIAR SOUND. IT SEEMED LIKE EVERY TIME MY BRAIN REGISTERED CERTAIN NOISES - EVEN WHEN I WAS DEEP IN SLEEP, IT SENT OFF A PANIC TRIGGER THAT FLOODED THROUGH MY MIND. THIS WAS ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

All I had ever wanted to be when I grew up was a mom. My husband and I tried for years to have children but alas it wasn't in God's plan for us. So we needed a new plan. We looked into foster care.

When she passed by him minutes later, he stepped out from behind the lockers, his fingers forcefully latching onto her wrists. She yelped as she was pulled into the restroom alongside him, a hand quickly pressed to her lips, muffling her cries.

We finally left Denver and I was excited to start a new journey-- well, I was mostly

Sitting at the dinner table, I shoved a bite of steak in my mouth. Forks and knives scraped at the table, breaking the silence in the air. I grabbed the cold cup that held my drink and glared at my dad. Sitting there, all quietly, as if he had done nothing wrong. He had gone from being the man who would race down stairs when dinner was ready so he could spend time with his family, to the man who was cooped up in his office.

After the movers hauled away Jacob’s belongings, I went through a few things in the attic and the garage. When there was a pile of junk in the middle of the floor, I wondered how I was going to gather all of the crap by the curve with the trash bins. I looked around the garage and spotted Jacob’s green wheelbarrow. That was how I was going to get this mess out of here. After filling the wheelbarrow up three times, I was finished in the garage.

It was about 6:30 pm on a weekday evening, and I had just finished eating dinner. My mom was slaving over the sink trying to clean up the mess we had made at dinner. When I approached her with that look on my face suggesting I wanted something. She knew it right away and asked what I wanted.

I sped down the hill as fast as I could, looking desperately for my young wife. I came to a stop where the road splits into four, still no sign of her. I dismounted my machine, and began to examine the roadways to figure out where exactly we had came from. with any luck, Elizabeth has backtracked back up the road. As I was examining the tracks, I heard someone on horseback approaching. I looked up to find an old farmer, whom was missing 2 or 3 of his teeth and had hair resembling a mop, making his way casually down the road.

I woke up from my slumber that felt like I’ve been sleeping for a thousand years. The aching, sore muscles that had built up on my body from the past three days had all vanished. I rose from the bed and went to the dining room, but there--standing in the middle of the room was General Zaroff.

If he could, the youth would have remained there for hours. The harsh words he spat out toward the entity was the only form of affection he could convey to a man as formal as his father was. The fashion of his character, the way he conducted himself, was one in which the fledgling lionized. Respect from his colleagues was something the man had in abundance, and Titus wanted this. He wanted to be above them all, to inspire fear in their beings with just as a flick of his wrist.

The sun penetrates the green leaves, leaving blotches on the wall behind my head. In my front porch oasis, I struggle to balance my plate of food on my lap and shield my eyes from the sun simultaneously. The sun is bright and the rest of my family are wearing their glasses. Mom and Lila sit on the swing in the corner and rest their plates on the arm rests. Lila swings the seat, moving her feet to the rhythm of the Grateful Dead.

“It’s my turn to use the bathroom!” Evan screeched while pounding his fist on the door.

In the car ride home, I was confused myself. I was clueless as to why my dad looked so angry and my parents were bickering back and forth about something. I remember my dad screaming “I don’t fucking know why!!!” to my mom. When we got home my grandparents followed right behind us. My grandpa said to my dad “Ryan, what’s going on?” Agitated, my dad swiftly turned to face my grandpa replying “I got laid off! They told me there were too many workers, but they get rid of the guys who have been working there for years and know what they’re doing and keep the new guys they imported with no experience? I don’t understand!” My dad marched to our back steps and sat looking straight forward. Tears started to roll from his eyes. MY father revealed the teenager inside; he took his souped up Toyota pick-up and took off.

The skirt didn’t fit Alice anymore. She was perplexed as sweat gathered like soft kisses on her upper lip. Not this skirt. Not now. Her double chins pressed against each other as she looked down, over her swollen belly, trying to see the elastic waistband she was attempting to pull up. The baby in her belly gave a solid wap to the lower part of her stomach where the waistband was tightly pushing into it.