Personal Narrative: Red Hair

After sitting in the small waiting room for 30 minutes a middle aged woman opens the door to guide me to an even smaller room. She hands me a gown and told me the doctor will see me in a few minutes. The exam room in was a simple white room with a exam table in the facing toward the door. Out of shear boredom I begin to look around, and I open a drawer and see the usual medical tool along with two boxes of size small gloves . Before I can play around with any of the stuff I hear tap of shoes infront of the door. I close the drawers just in time to look over and see one of the most attractive woman I have ever seen. She was in her mid thirties, hair shoulder length

I have never felt more happy to see a doctor in my life. He just made every part of me tingle. I began to lust for him just in the short moment he had entered the room. "Hello doctor, it's great to see you! So what are we going to be doing for this exam?" I tried to speak, while blushing all awkwardly with a slight cringe like smile on my face. My doctor chuckled a bit "Well, you called in with a..? Ah shit I cant remember, something was sore I think. You wanted to make sure it was normal and everything was good, smart thinking. Now if you've never been to a gynecologist you will have to remove clothing and put on a hospital gown." A slight smile tainted his lips while he continued to speak "I won't look." He handed me the hospital gown and turned around for me to change. I started to giggle like an idiot again while I spoke "o-okay doctor I'm going to quickly change, no peaking!" As I began to change I looked at him, he looked as if it was difficult for him to hold his urges to look at me while I changed. When I finished changing, I stood up and I began to stand around awkwardly. "Um I finished changing and Doctor, I-I'm really nervous... A bit scared to be honest..." He chuckled a bit while he turned around, "Aah, it's

Red is angry with me. She did not spoke none word on the way, she struggles to hold back the tears, I know that, because she always does that when I do something stupid. Now I feel bad. It is not the first fight we have, and will not be the last. But I'm tired, and I know she also, that's my fear, I fear that Red gets tired of me.

There are a few objects in my life that have a significance to me due to a period of time. When I was born I received a blue bear about the size I was, 17 inches. My great grandmother and father gave this adorable bear with pink ears, feet and nose. I would drag “Blue” along anywhere my family and I went. Blue was my best friend, who was always by my side. Even though I seemed to have an urge to nibble under my bear’s nose. Still to this day I have my bear Blue, representing my early years of life.

It was a cool September day. The leaves were starting to change colors. The air was started to get that crispy cool autumn feel to it. I was eight years old. It was my third grade year. My mom and dad both worked so my grandma (who we called nana.) picked me up every day after school. My nana and I always made some type of food every time I would come over. It didn’t matter if we were baking, making an actual meal or just making a snack, we always did something.

It took three hours to relax enough for sleep, but once I did, I kept waking from a recurring nightmare. Charles’s eyes staring at me. Changing colors. Blue. Green. Amber. Violet. The crackle of an electric storm detonating his eyes. I kept hearing his voice. “You are my match.”

The frighteningly familiar smell of latex gloves and old hand sanitizer linger the halls of the hospital. I hate that smell, but it is forever etched into the creases of my brain. That smell is one I will always remember. My thoughts are pinging wall to wall like the ball in a pinball game. I find it hard to breathe, because I know what is happening beyond those doors into the operating room. It is May, extremely hot outside, but I am wearing a jacket; it’s too cold in this large, lonely building to be without one. I see all these people with burdened looks on their faces, waiting for their loved ones to come out from surgery as well, but yet I still feel alone. I walk down to the first floor and purchase an iced coffee from PJ’s and I take the elevator back up to the second floor. I pull out my phone to check the time and use my camera as a mirror to see how exhausted I look. I walk to where my mother and my grandmother are sitting, looking just as exhausted as I.

Though he’s five foot ten inches tall and claims he’s short, that is pretty tall to me, though Mark’s neon pink and jet black hair may give him an inch or two extra. It all depends on how cooperative his hair is going to be. Some days it stays in it’s combed back swoop, but other days it’s all over the place. After you get over the fact his hair is neon pink, you’ll most likely notice his eyes. Being the dark chocolate color they are, you may find yourself getting lost after staring for too long. Even if you do get lost, his warm smile typically brings you back. Sitting right above his messy stubble, you find hi smile is contagious. You could be having the worst day and having a smile on your face is the last thing imaginable, but when you

who had a cone around it’s face, which despite the event made me smile in amusement. Our feet clacked on the linoleum as we made our way to the front desk to check-in, the pungent smell of a hand sanitizer and the slightly better smell of dog soap lingered in my nose. The nurse gave us a reassuring smile as she walked into another room, to do what I assumed was get the doctor. I kept wiping my palms on my shorts trying to get the sick feeling to leave my stomach. When the doctor finally came out a few short minutes later, she waved our way motioning for us to follow her. As we walked the echoing of shoes hitting the ground kept getting louder and nearly suffocating me with it’s noise.

I woke up because I was hot as hell, it took me a moment to realize why. I was shocked at how sexy this man was laying beneath me. I laid there just looking at him thinking of how good he had treated me and I can honestly say that these six weeks of being single have made me see things in a whole new light. Blue doesn't deserve me nor Lyric. It's sad that I've been so caught up in what I wanted that I haven't thought of how my baby's missing out on having a father. I've been so dumb by staying with a man who's a dead beat. The only thing I want is for him to just sign over his rights to my daughter so that we can completely move on it may sound cold but he's never stepped up for her and she's doing just fine without his ass. Watching how she

I was born in a plastic machine. People usually pay 25 cents for me, then when I get out of there I get bounced and bounced I’m really tall, I float I don’t fly. Every day I see my friends Flying by. I’m awake day and night. What am I.

Dixie: I would like to take the speaking part about color and song that we choose as a group. That leaves to things for Nicole to cover. I like your idea about wearing the same color of clothes if it works out. I would like to hear Nicole insight too. We could all pick our own color I don’t think that we would have to have just one color. What is your thought on this?

Excitement ran through my veins. I practically tumbled down the tinsel covered stairs in my red and green striped pajamas pants and my favorite red shirt with a my favorite reindeer on it. As my hand touched to golden handle butterflies flue around my stomach. A cold breeze brushed pass my face and loneliness filled my body. I took two steps outside and looked around hoping he was there.

But there are so many stories and sides, I just have to let go of

Everything seemed unusual. It was a gloomy, cold morning. The car’s windshields full of frost, steam from my mouth appeared as I walked to my car. My heater was on full blast as I shivered trying to take a sip of my hot chocolate. I was on my way to Archibald’s Family Dentistry- not for the usual cleaning or dental treatment, but to complete more hours towards my internship. As I sped walk towards the entrance trying not to slip I tell myself “I hope today is a good day”. I walk in, greet everyone, and set by lunch bag down. As I approach the break room I see Marcella, an employee, sitting down with a frown. I ask what is wrong, and she mentions her uncle had just died from liver cirrhosis. Giving her my greatest