Personal Narrative-Home

"More than anything, I just want you to know that there is more than one person you can lean on. You may have someone up their who you are relying on, but you have two incrediably strong sons who would never wish to see their mother in pain like this. Whatever the outcome we finally get your boys will be strong for you and in return I'm sure you will be strong for them."[/b]

"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’m going to break you.” She said. “Every single bone in your body and once you recover, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

I don’t get why my sister is sending me here, sending me to rehab. Its not like I have a problem. Ok, I have a slight problem but that doesn’t mean I need to go to rehab for it. She thinks it will help me “get better”. I get so annoyed with her when she says that. All she ever says to me now is do this and you’ll get better, try harder and maybe things would work out. Try harder. You don’t think I’ve tried my whole life to fix the things that are wrong with me. I have. I fought every single day and nothing ever changed. I’m still the same way I was since I was little. I’m still messed up. I know I am but she can’t honestly think that rehab is going to help can she? I highly doubt it.

“Tell me, how does a pathetic, worthless, but yet intelligent person get into this mess and end up here?” Seymour asks, not really expecting an answer, but to dignify his still anger, uses his carved, smooth surface of his wooden baseball bat to strike her left knee, which has fell off for the fifth time now, since she awoken in the mysterious room. She was tired, hungry, thirsty, homesick, and yet so furious the adrenaline pumped bitter life into her and she sat, ropes to her chest, arms, and legs, thinking about life before this moment. “She gets the million dollar questions correct, but only by taking wild guesses,” she manages to say, hoping this sacred fuel will last forever. Before taking another swing at her leg, he chuckles, and then

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.

I while later I come around the final turn that lead to the pack Hospital, it's past dusk now. The hospital itself looks like regular ol' human hospital, they've even got ambulances, but there ambulances are way more heavy duty then the regular ones, which is understandable. I look down at my mate, he slowly opens his honey collard eyes, As he does, slightly whimpers. "Hey. Wake up babe we're here" say softly.

“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?”

The bus creaking to a stop makes me cringe. Not only does the sound hit that spot in my neck just right, but it also forces me back to reality. Back to what’s about to happen.

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.

It was just a regular November night. I was about halfway through 4th grade and was enjoying it. I was playing in our basement at the time. I didn’t notice that there was a partially big mess in the basement. Then all of a sudden, I heard the inviting voice of my mother yelling,” Time for dinner.”So my little 9 year old brain thought Oh boy, dinner. So I ran to the stairs, still not noticing the mess. Tripped over a chair, then fell up the stairs…… and broke my wrist.

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.

"Be careful now, the fair is in town, stick together!" I hear behind me as I gallop onto the creaking deck. We were to walk to the park with our lunches while the rest of the kids would drive there. Two girls trail closely behind me, Haylee and Lexi. Haylee has hair like Rapunzel, long, flowing hair that shines like the sun. She has a squarish head and thinly framed glasses. Lexi, however, is the opposite, she's younger, shorter, has a round head and stick straight hair. Freckles sprinkle across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks.

Lord, this uniform is tight. My chunky thighs are about to burst out a this thing. Mama said to watch my mouth, but this uniform is already making me snappy. I can’t believe I have to wear this thing. Isn’t my obvious black colour enough to label me as a maid. Today’s my first day, and I’m sure as hell not excited for it.

I press the phone to my ear using my shoulder, holding the soaking wet garment in my hands with devastation. “Out of all the days you forget, too. Jenny’s picking me up in an hour!”