Personal Narrative: I Am Dying An Unintentional Death

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

“I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die,” (pg. 389) is a phrase my father and I once said at my dearest mother’s funeral. My faithful father quickly perished and there was only I to say the beloved prayer for him. I believeth that the best of us go through this sorrow mess, my time is now awaiting. I am a lone wolf and haveth no one to speak out these words for I. I shall not waste the lasting moments and speak them out for myself. I have liveth longer than one has expected. It truly surprises many that I have not taken thy life yet, but today is suited for the taking of my life. I currently

Reaching across the center console of my car, I imagined the commute that I had into school. My 1992 Jeep Cherokee courageously braved the snowstorm of the year, with only one functional windshield wiper and a forlorn four wheel drive system. As I turned onto the Merritt Parkway, a Honda Civic swerved past me and proceeded to weave in and out of the afternoon traffic. Fast-forward sixty seconds and that Honda was now engulfed by the powder white trees which bound the highway. Instinctively, I pulled up behind the crash site, dialing 911 as I ran over to the mangled wreck. I peered into the car, my pupils the size of marbles, and the driver seemed uninjured; regardless, I proceeded to reassure the driver that Emergency Medical Technician’s/Paramedic’s

The remorse grey morning awaited. I never knew one person could have such an impact on my life, as well as everyone else’s lives. I always thought everything was just a beautiful fantasy land where everything was perfect. Waterfall coming out of everyone's eyes filled my imagination of what one man can do to a crowd. I asked myself one question, “Why him, why does it have to be him”. The emotions, pouring out of meand I knew the fall of 2006 was gonna be bad.

“My ex-girlfriend was taken away by the cop and taken to the local jail. My ex-girlfriend’s Dad showed up and I rode back with him to their house. Finally my parents came and picked me up. I went home and maybe got two hours of sleep, if you even call that sleep. The next morning, I went back to my ex-girlfriend’s house and she was later released from jail that day. For the longest time, we would just sit there in silence, because, what do you say? It was time to comfort one another. I not only felt bad about the whole situation, but I knew no one was going to believe me, us. Believe that a girl purposively jumped into the moving vehicle. I later learned that the girl who died had been suicidal. Earlier that day, before the accident,

Being born and spending all of my life on Staten Island, I am well aware with the drug epidemic that plagues the borough especially with opioids. In high school, I knew people who used opioids to battle their personal demons. The people I was acquainted with saw and wanted help, but did not have the sufficient will power at the time to quit. After graduating high school, and then attending college many of the acquaintances I knew and others that I did not died from unintentional overdoses. What further troubles me is that in my own personal experience with my family, drug addicts are always trying to seek help before an overdose. Thus, I was glad and relieved that Mayor Bill de Blasio launched an effort to reduce opioid usage and fatal overdoses

Why am I torturing myself? Enclosed in a 3 sided cage with only the illusion of freedom out the steel framed front door. The mirrors on the walls staring at my jiggling fat from all angles. The dingy ceiling tiles are stained from countless roof leaks and the floor littered with pebbles and rubber from a busted medicine ball. The sting of body odor and bleach fills my nostrils. Head splitting music ravishes my ears through the chaos of weights clashing and ropes smacking the floor. My classmates glare at me with their squinty hypocritical eyes.

It seems that when you are young you don't think much about death, at least not for me. In fact, I was too busy living to even realize that I would eventually die and when I would think about it I assumed that it would be of old age and definitely not how I actually died instead. I, Olive Lorain Barkley, was and technically still am 17 years old when death came for me. The date was August 14th 2010 (a relatively good year besides the dying part); Me and my mom were driving home from a family reunion and got in a car crash; I later found out that the girl was on texting and driving. All three of us got rushed to the hospital where the girl suffered a concussion, my mom with amazingly minor injuries, and I passed away due to blood loss. Just

When I was in the seventh grade I fell down the stairs at my junior high school on slushy December day. One of my friends helped me to the school nurse and when I got there she simply handed me a ziploc bag of ice and sent me on my way back to class. I went the rest of that day limping class to class. After school, my mother picked me up unaware of what happened earlier that day. Once I told her she took me to the emergency room right away. After numerous x-rays the verdict was in... I had fractured my growth plate in my left ankle. I believe the school should have taken better safety precautions since I was not the only one to fall on those stairs, there were two other falls on the same stair case prior to mine. In my option I think in

The 21st century is assumed to be the safest period in the human history. The science of medicine has been vastly improving, resulting in numerous solutions to avoid decease effectively, we have not experienced an anguish of war, we do not die prematurely either. Accordingly, we are living longer but there is something, something so essential we tend to forget about, its obviousness that we’ve become untouched and emotionless in the matters of it. We have become murders of our own life giving source- the Earth.

She watched him leave and climb atop his bike. He started it with minimal effort and soon disappeared into the light of day. ‘It was him,’ she thought. All of his words so fresh in her mind, had her frozen in her place. ‘It was him.’ Three simple words that kept coming back to her. ‘He said he’d be there.’ Molly knew the ball was now in her court. She could either call the game and walk away, or she could make a play. Either was the choice was hers’. She held all the control. It’s something she wanted. Death is ineviatable. How we die is something we can decide. Normally we are all on our crash courses with destiny, barreling at speeds we can’t even begin to comprehend towards whatever has been laid out before us. There are times when we can

The death of a loved one is one of the most challenging events I have had to overcome. The summer of 2014, I was just going into my junior year, was one for the books. It was an absolutely amazing summer. My sister had her first baby in May and we were getting to make his first summer his best, but little did we know it would also be his last. We lost him at the end of July. It was one of the hardest things to cope with. So many unanswered questions still to this day stand.

It was 2nd quarter in 6th grade. I was sitting on my saucer chair relaxing, and enjoying the silence in my bedroom. I sit there thinking in my sweats cuddles up in a large fuzzy purple blanket. Then suddenly I was awakened after spacing out from my phone. The text was from Emma, I was a little sceptical because we hadn’t talked in a couple of days. I hesitantly opened it and slowly and carefully read it. The text said, “I hate myself, I hate how I look, I hate how I feel, and I hate how people look at me”. I felt absolutely terrible, and was in a bind not knowing what to say back. All I knew was Emma needed to know how important she was to this world and that she meant so much to her friends and family.

comes back full force. My straight A’s start to drop to D’s and E’s, I quit all my after-school activities, stopped talking to everyone, and started to skip school almost everyday. I had always struggled with depression, but it had never been this bad before, I felt like I was drowning and she was pulling me down with her. I struggled a lot with my depression, I had to go to the emergency room twice during the school year for suicide attempts, I just wanted to give up on everything. During this time things kept getting worse and worse, tension kept on building between my mom and me and I still hadn't seen my dad. I remember that night so clearly as if it was yesterday. My mom and I had been arguing all day, We were in my room and kept on arguing

It’s as if time has stopped entirely, standing there frozen in time. I can’t move, I can’t speak, I just stand there. I stand there in my own depression, surrounded by darkness. Each time it passes over me, it hits me like a tsunami, with its brute force destroying everything in its path. There have been times where I’ve been driven to commit suicide, just simply pulling out my step-father’s forty-five caliber pistol, loaded with hollow-point rounds. The darkness consumes me, whispers in my ear, “just pull the trigger you worthless shit”. “Nobody would care if you died, so just die”. I tried to tune it out, but instead, it just got louder, as if it went from whispering to yelling. I never could pull the trigger.