Personal Narrative: She's Insane

It is full summer and upon the horizon, I see soldiers coming, they are forever coming, it seems. Though they will soon leave us alone. For some insane reason, crazy people, scare them away. This place, has become my haven. You would think, after a hundred and forty years, I would have grown tired of this place and moved on; but when my Henry, was killed at Vicksburg, I completely lost my mind.

It’s a struggle to get out of bed sometimes, I often just sit there struggling to comprehend the sequence of events which have taken place over the past year. I mean, I’m used to this now, its normal to me, but the fact that this has happened and that I am now ‘disabled’ as people would put it is hard to get my head around. And every time I look down I’m reminded of the pain and the struggle I faced, it’s a physical scar which links me to my grueling past, a physical and emotional journey.

No one considered that Schizophrenia was the ailment that tormented my brother. We assumed it was just stress and anxiety that stole his nights, his sanity, and his joy. We all believed that it was just a phase my happy, go-lucky, comic brother would get over. After all, doesn't everybody go through these rough patches of their life, and like a phoenix tried through a fire, rise triumphantly? That was my hope for my brother. But as the days progressed, fatigue mixed with delusions consumed my brother’s thoughts and disrupted his ability to function. As a sister, I felt helpless watching my big brother, my hero, and my confidant going through the greatest battle of his life - mental illness. Episodes and psychiatric breakdowns were constant,

I’ve been trudging along for what seems like hours. I lost count of my steps sometime after my car broke down. When I look around all I see is an almost tangible grey curtain hiding everything except for a small segment of the highway. As I look forward the dark grey of the asphalt blends into the fog. I have no Idea what time it is when the fog rolled in my phone died. Without a clock, any length of time seems to go on forever, especially when the sun is hiding behind the fog. I just something I don’t understand about my situation, there has been no change in light since the fog rolled in. Same brightness the whole time. It’s almost like it’s not that I can’t tell time is passing. It’s that time isn’t passing, but that’s impossible.

Kaboom! In the matter of seconds a fun time can turn into a panic of terror. Looking around, seeing the sheer excitement on everyone's face. Not one of us had second guessed this idea. It was completely silent, not one cricket chirped, in the dried out grass clearing. Although it is a peaceful little place, it's not going to be so soothing and tranquil any longer. Now came the roar of the explosion, echoing through the wood. A violent blast of burning hot air hit my face. Shrapnel of glass bottle pierces my skin. Gunpowder and debris from the oak wood tree dusted my lips, having a bitter disgusting flavor. A blinding flash of light dazed me, white spots began to spread around my line of sight. The sounds of laughter at the campfire, cars passing by, and the wind whistling through the trees suddenly all went quiet, but a rising tone of a broken amplifier replaced all the other noises, causing us to become disorientated. Not even being able to hear the crackling of leaves beneath our feet, over the insane ringing.

I curse the amount of street lights there are and go around to the side of the house, careful to duck into the shadows. The sound of a noisy dog barking next door has my pulse racing and my eyes cataloging everything around me.

Bare with me for another blog post about volleyball. This weekend was the Badger Region Volleyball Tournament, which my team participated in. When I walked into the building, the memories flooded in with scenes from the elevator adventures, cheese fries, and design your own sweatshirts. The first day, my team didn't play up our full potential, with my team only winning one out of three matches; which meant that we didn't place in any of the brackets, meaning zero chance of receiving a medal. However, at the end of the second match, I got switched from being middle all-around to libero ( a position where you only play back row on offense and defense). I guess it's an honor, but it puts a lot of pressure on me by labeling me as the best passer

When Alaina fell down the stairs, she didn’t really know what happened. All she knew was that she had been having fun one second, and was in pain the next. It was so quick, so fast, she didn’t even know what hit her. All she new was that she took a long, plunging trip down the stairs.

Pass, Set, SPIKE! I sprinted across the court, pursuing my base position with sweat rolling down my cheeks and weight upon my shoulders; the score of the fifth set was 13-12 and I played passionately, letting the game engulf me entirely. This was when I felt the most alive. But the universe is fighting me to throw my passion away in the garbage. Volleyball is the passion that I have committed myself to master for years and often, unfortunate circumstances have pushed me to stop participating in the game. Discouragement from many individuals, financial instabilities, and most of all, health problems and injuries I have faced were all obstacles that hindered my path to success. Every instance I lost control of what occurred in this unpredictable universe, it was as if everything and everyone just wanted to keep me away from a simple volleyball, but why was playing so disgraceful?

There was a girl, her name was Emiri, while she was innocent looking enough with her short white hair and innocent looking face. She seemed to have a smile on her face all the time in front of people even when it wasn't appropriate time to have a smile on her face like if somebody had died in a really tragic way, she would still have a smile on her face as if she didn't feel anything. When people would ask her why she was smiling at such a horrid thing she would only reply “Because I think this world is so wonderful, even with the bad things that happen. That's why I am smiling. We only had one chance to be here and their time was up, so why would you hurt yourself over their ending time? After all somebody else will be written to replace them

On Saturday, February 25th I attended my little sister’s CYO volleyball game at Saint Simon the Apostle Catholic School. It was just a regular season game. Maci and her team, the Royals, played Our Lady of Mount Carmel, also known as OLMC. They were the home team and OLMC was the visiting team. The players on OLMC were all under 5 feet, so the Lady Royals were not intimidated by them. It was definitely the smallest team I had ever seen and compared to the Lady Royals who were all, but one, above 5 feet. I knew that this was going to be an interesting game. At the start of the first match number 3, Maddi Gibson, started off serving. She was notorious for getting all of her serves over and getting points right off the bat from them. I could see why her serves didn't give the opposing team a chance. They were so close to the net that you would think that they would not go over, but they did every single time. She scored 7 points in a row till one of her serves did not make it over. My favorite play was when they had a pretty good volley going and then the opposing team, OLMC, passed the ball and it was out, but Quinn Lewis, number 2, hit the ball anyways and she scored a point. Maci Zehner, number 4, had a great play. She served

Nancy Long is the worst person I’ve ever met! My grandma’s last name has changed so much (not because of marriage) I don’t know what to call her. Nancy Long, Littlejohn, Dick, or Frye all has been her names for periods in her life. Well, you're probably wondering why she is the worst person in my life, After All she is my grandma. There is a long series of events that will lead up to one big event that has forever changed my life. Nancy’s mom died from Hydrocephalus when she was the age of three years old. Hydrocephalus is when there is fluid on the brain from birth. This left Nancy with her alcoholic father named Larry Long. Larry got remarried to Denise Long when Nancy was around the age of six or seven years old. Denise was very abusive(allegedly)

Hello my name is John. I was just everyday salaryman. It was my 24th birthday night when i were walking in the park. Where i had my first date with my first and last girlfriend. There were two people doing inappropriate thing in the park. Was what i thought and this place have some important memory of my life so i decided to remind them.

I hate it when she has to go away. My most cherished memories are spent with her. I don't understand why she has to go away. When she leaves I get unbelievably bored without someone to play with. As I complain, my parents constantly remind me that she endures boredom on a much greater scale to mine. She's locked away in the ward, confined in a small room with no one to keep her company. She has to put up with over-protective nurses who simply don't understand her. It makes me sad to think that she has to stay be in a place where she can’t be happy.

My life was pretty normal for a typical magical family. Nothing too special in all honesty. I didn’t have parents which could summon food at will or have that of a great income. Mostly, my family relied on producing potions for a source of income. Every day I would usually find myself at random fields filled with flowers of all colors; Red, blue, yellow, you name it! By the end of the day, I would always fill my basket up with a variety of colorful mountains of flowers. So yea, it’s a normal day, Yea? I’m picking all kinds of flowers for my parent’s potions. I find a blue flower with some petals missing in a wide field. As I pull the roots of the plant out of the soil, the sky starts turning in circles. Confused, I drop the flower. I start to scurry back home. The wind blow