Personal Narrative-Stilettos

“I’ll never hit you in the face where it will leave a mark...” The words rushed in, taunting. The cold emptiness in the tone, like he was there in the room, whispering in her ear. And all at once, the fear was back. The raw fear that gripped her body like a vice and left her gulping in air. In a panic, she whirled her head around the room. She was alone. Relief flooded her, but the sickening butterflies remained. She gripped the counter until her knuckles turned white; outlining the jagged scar more prominently, and she fought to steady her breathing, blink back the tears, focus on something else.

I used to be proud of who I was. I used to be free, but I’ve fallen, slowly stripped bare of all I was and could have been. I resent them, those who gruesomely ripped me from my haven and shackled me beneath their feet. I resent the world for abandoning me in this hell, leaving me to suffer. I resent who I have become, a puppet, used only for their entertainment. The devil only grows within me, plaguing my mind during the sleepless nights. Feeding images into my mind. Images of their blood splattered across the walls of their beloved blue and red (tent). My teeth sinking into the fatty flesh of their neck. The horror painted on their faces as I gleefully avenge the loss of my sanity. And I detest myself. I loathe the satisfaction that I feel fantasising about their murder. I fear myself, and what I have become under their control. I yearn for the days I spent in my

“Who are you,” a deep voice started, “and what are you here for?” the mysterious man questioned.

I pushed my lower jaw up off my chest and nodded at him. “Who was

“Excuse me,” I said to one of the people walking by. “who is that man over their.”

I froze at his words. Our Mistress...he didn't know he had another brother. I thought very, very slowly. "Who...are you?" I whispered.

I went out to my swing set and found chain to chain a spiraling spider web sparkling with rain. “Why aren’t you swinging?” My mother asked, ”What is it?” “A spider is spinning a maze.”

              "Hello, who is this? " I asked, demanding to discover. Then an odd and annoyingly droll voice replied,

“CHARLES!!! Wake up, you got a game today!”, my wife Beverly screamed. My bed has never felt more comfortable. I know it’s only a pull-out couch, but I love it. I lay in bed some more because I don’t want to get up and deal with nothing today. “CHARLES! Hurry up!” Beverly screeches. I know that if I stay any longer she will come get me, so I gather the courage and jump out of bed. My feet make a huge thud as my enormous figure lands heavily on the weak wooden floor. It’s hot and steamy durin’ this time of July, which always brings me back to my wretched days of working on the plantation. I walk over slowly and struggle to open the worn old window. A nice breeze flows in and I can smell the Magnolia flowers bloomin’ in

"Sofia." His voice was hoarse and tempered. He looked at me as if I was a vermin that invaded his

I had one idea going through my head,” Get the pocketbook and get the suede shoes.” I finally prepared to get the pocketbook and of course I had fallen because of the weight of the purse when I pulled it.. In addition before I can run the lady I had tried to steal from got a hold of me. Generally speaking she had shaken me so hard I felt my teeth even rattled.The lady had said her was names Luella or Mrs. Jones but I honestly did not pay attention I was just looking for a way out. She had starting dragging and taking me somewhere. She had mentioned something about washing my face and that was the part that really confused me. When we got there she lead to me the bathroom and told me to wash my face, leaving me there were I saw Mrs. Jones’

The slippery mountains of possessions surrounding me left seldom room for my feet to wander free. The car is filled with almost everything I own and the large box to my right stabs my rib cage. As the road stretches out in front of us and we edge closer to Abilene my head fills up with anxious thoughts and my head begins to unravel like a spool of thread. My fists are

What. I stared at her, and her shoulders stiffened. Her body trembled and a low squeak escaped from her throat. “Really?” I asked.

The day was beautiful, I knew the sun shined only because it didn’t know what I was about to do. I dressed in my best, one could even say I was “dressed to kill”, but “kill” wasn’t really my style. I prefer the word “slaughter.” I walked down the cluttered street beaming a smile at anyone I could make eye contact with. Adrenaline pumped through me making my fingers twitch and shake. I hid their fear by swinging them by my side and smiling wider. Something sinister jingled around in my mind and the more I walked the more violently it smashed against the walls of my mind. With every pound it rang. It rang and rang until I couldn’t hear anything.

“Sophia watch out!” I scream. I’m too far away to get to her, and I hear her scream. The look on her face when it hits the car hits her. Every night my dreams are haunted by her face. Some nights it’s all I can see.