Personal Narrative: My Pipell

And he shot a bolt at each of the three blank walls and the vacuum hissed out at him. The emptiness made an even emptier whistle, a senseless scream. He tried to think about the vacuum upon which the nothingness had performed, but he could not. He held his breath so the vacuum could not get into his lungs. He cut off its terrible emptiness, drew back, and gave the entire room a gift of one huge bright yellow flower of burning.

I walked to it and tried prying it from the ground with my fingers. A twig broke behind me and I jumped and spun around. It was dark now and the only light was from the full moon. I had a bad feeling start to pump through me. I turned and ran trying to evacuate the danger I felt nearby. I ran through brush that looked like claws trying to grab my ankles. And as tree limbs came down snatching at my skin I tripped and fell. I saw a tree nearby that looked welcoming and I tried to use it as cover. Black wings busted through the trees and run started echoing around me in a croaked out a raspy breath.

I gripped the over-annotated, photocopied packet in my eager fingers so that my sweaty fingers made print marks on the black speckled page. And I read. I cried. And my dream changed.

When I finally got my vision back I couldn’t believe myself, a shudder of fear travelled through my body, as I realised that the creature in front of was real, more real than the reality of my hunger. My sight was disturbed by an ethereal creature that looked like the devil in the form of a ghost, a glowing red ghost. All the adrenaline my body could generate surged through my casket dense body, giving the energy that I had been missing for years to run. But even that surge of energy couldn’t take me far enough, my body stopped moving and I collapsed my own body taking a toll on what was left of me. The creature appeared again, coming closer and closer, until it faced me, every part of me wanted to run as fast as I could but I couldn’t move.

Suddenly I gain consciousness. Unable to open my eyes, I feel a cluster of dried sticks poking my back as if I was lying on a bed covered by pins. A constant ringing noise almost blankets the sound of the leaves dancing with the wind around me. With a gentle sigh I allow myself to build enough energy for me to open an eye. My eye began to follow a path towards the only light source it sees, the fire from a wooden torch gripped with my left hand. I open my other eye and began to force my lean body to a kneeling position. The smell of decomposing leaves irritates my nose as I gaze at the identical oak trees surrounding me like a wall of armoured gladiators. Using my wrinkled hands and injured legs I crawl towards

Staring up at the dark ceiling, I lay on my bed, my body aching from yesterday’s fall. I really don’t want to move, my back hurting the most. My mind continues to wander back to the strange book. I was so close to maybe finding a way out of this place and now I’m not. All I had to do was just grab the book, but instead I dropped it.

I stood as steady as a statue. A myriad of gigantic brown trees as old as Adam surrounded me. They seemed to stare at me like watchmen. I took a deep breath and my heart began to beat like a cheetah chasing its prey. Slowly, I walked into the dark forest.

Something wasn't right, and that something was staring me right in the face, literally. I looked down at the book in my hands to be greeted with a creepy image of a cracked mask, which appeared to be blinking with its two misshapen eyes. One of the eyes was short and wide, while the other was tall and skinny. Out of fear, I quickly turned the page to find out that the words had turned into symbols.

I was wondering the forest when a Shadow Figure was following me. I started running, the Shadow Figure was chasing me from the forest. The Shadow Figure Chased me to a unfamiliar village. I was tired so I collapsed and fainted on the ground of the village.

The only lights in this room were small electric lamps which had seemed to have been there for a while because they were only giving off very dim light. The smell of old rancid meat had hit my nose and made me curious as to what was giving it off. After a few more minutes of struggling the rope finally released me into a small fall to the ground. The sound of me hitting the cold floor sent echoes throughout the cave and I think the creature must’ve heard because it let out a bloodcurdling shriek that made the hair on my neck jump off and run away. Judging by this there probably wasn’t a lot of time until it got here so I took one more good look around before trying to find a way out. Collecting all my things I stumbled on an old lighter and torch which would be my light in dark places. I quickly ran down the closest corridor with the lit torch in hand. This place made my skin crawl and the feeling from it gave me made you think death is a better

My hand reached for my suitcase, intending to take out my sketchbook. The leather bound book was a comforting thing, the turmoil of anxiety in me calmed as my fingers skimmed across the soft cover. It had been with me through all of this; it still is now. This book was not a traitor, not like Charles, not like Oswald.

“I saw-with shut eyes, but acute mental vision-I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life and stir with an uneasy, half-vital motion. Frightful must it be, for supremely frightful would be the

As I, Linus stroll along the sidewalk that was covered in the washed-out sidewalk chalk, I think about my rough day at school. But, for an instant, déjà vu had struck me. I looked around, however, I only just saw a purple text book. A familiar look I thought. I had recognized the scratched-up corners and the black scribbles all over the cover. It was my science text book I lost last week! I immediately pick it up, realizing I still have my post lab questions to do. Just as I lift the book, A small blue envelope appeared. It had a mesmerizing purple amethyst gem encrusted impeccably in the center. My fingers unintentionally opened the envelope and inside revealed a narrow piece of ruffled paper with yellowed edges and holes burnt through the middle. Word by word my eyes skimmed along the sentences as I stood on the concrete in shock. The letter went a little something like this:

In Jorge Luis Borges’ short story “The Library of Babel”, the author depicts the entire universe in the form of a mysterious and intricate “Library.” The author gives life to the library by describing the fruit- like “bulbs” that emit light, as well as a vestibule which contains two compartments for “sleeping and satisfying one’s physical necessities.” (Borges 112) This library is lined with “an infinite number of hexagonal galleries,”(Borges 112) containing bookshelves with an immeasurable amount of books. However, most of these books are indecipherable, and therefore, meaningless. Borges’ characterization of the library leads the reader to believe that he is alluding to the numerous books of the Bible. He questions the Bible’

In the distance, the trail along which I had been walking wound through a thick