Personal Narrative Story : A Story Of A Personal Story

“I will allow you to go to over Mackenzie’s sleepover as long as you promise to watch PG-13 or younger”, my mom yell up the base of the stairs from the kitchen.

Jason stared up at Tyler's eyes; deranged, dilated, discolored. Tyler wore a smile on his face, his usual smirk twice as wide and displaying too many teeth. He held a silver and black pistol in his hand.

“What would you say if I asked to go away, just like we did after we met the hunters?” I brought up.

What he didn’t want this little girl to understand was that Kaetlyn wasn’t perfect. She wanted to go out and search for adventure in the world. One day, his daughter had run away and never returned. “Then what happened!” the girl said impatiently. The little girl then seemed to make a discovery. “I know,” she said sadly. “What happened?” The man asked curiously. “The mommy princess died,” she said, “that’s what happens on the television.” He nodded at her reasoning and knowledge.

''Wasn't that amazing or what?'' excitedly shouted Cisco as he entered the hall, closely followed by a very emotionally tired, but happy, Sara who was glad that they were able to get the job done.

I can recall the first time I was kicked to start a game. Some people say it’s a great moment but I don’t think of my memory like that. Before I got kicked I had heard great stories about it. So, I expected it to be super fun, but that’s not how I experienced it.

Tyler rose from the wooden pew he’d been sitting on. He could still feel a few tears pricking at his eyes, and he wiped them as he exited the church.

After what seemed like a long day, Ryder was finally given time to himself. Of course, it wasn’t a lot of time because birthday insured cake and ice cream time, but Ryder was able to unwind from all the stress built up from this special day. He was sitting at his desk, pressed up against the wall under the window that looked out at the front of his house, and he had his light on- only giving so much light in the room. The sun was coming down too, which Ryder thought was the perfect opportunity to write in his journal.

"I have the tracking skills of a dog, Alek. I can probably find any animal in the entire forest." She pulled off her sweater and handed it to me. For someone who looked so small and fragile, she was actually extremely tough. Her shirt was tight and the sleeves didn't stop until they reached her elbow. "Wake up the other two while I'm gone. It's about seven in the morning. Tell them where I went. Ask Kate to do the laundry. I'll be back in an hour."

It should have never come to this, how had she let herself get into this position? She had given up, there was no point in trying anymore. A few months ago, Victoria 's life was incredible. She had the most amazing friends, she was doing well in school, she had a boyfriend, she danced and she absolutely loved it, she loved herself and everyone around her. Then something happened, her friends stabbed her in the back, her boyfriend stabbed her in the heart, and life took a big swing at her. She was alone, or at least she felt alone. Victoria didn 't know what to do, she was scared of telling her parents in fear that they would judge her and the decisions she had made. She just needed it to get better.

As we drive the dirt road passing every memory, one attracted more attention than others. This particular moment at the time was joyous, but only for me. It frightened Maggie and Mother. Why did I find so much delight in this situation? My childhood home was burning right before my eyes while the most valuable thing was inside: the quilts. The quilts were made by Grandmother. Her hands sewed every stitch by hand and every cloth used was worn by her. It was an antique work of art; it would have made a beautiful center piece in our---¨Wangero, can you believe that there are still people living in the filth,¨ Hikam says bringing me back to present time. I responded truthful,¨These people do not know any better if they knew they wouldn’t still be living in this place. They would be living in the city like us.” Hikam silently agrees. After driving on something narrower than a single lane and unpaved, we turn onto thier road. Last time I saw my sister and my mother, it was when I was leaving college--my favorite memory--which was seven years ago. As Hikam and I park in front of the shed, I take a deep breath; open the door and step on the dry dirt.

Some fifteen years ago, Jhin Wayne, his wife, and son were walking home from a movie and chatting about how would the ending be if the protagonist pressed the wrong button.

My heart was pounding in my chest feeling like it would burst out any minute, “why is this happening I sobbed. I couldn’t even think my head was racing so fast, “how is this possible how….how….HOW!” I shrieked, But that was my biggest mistake.

“Are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet,” I rambled. It had been hours of me trying to fall asleep and trying to draw on the bumpy roads. “ Shut up,” yelled my sister. “UGHHH,” I replied. I remember to use love road trips but now I hate them, they're so boring. “Joyia, be quiet,” said my grandma. My grandma always seemed to side with my sister no matter what the situation was. I didn't care too much because my grandpa always sided with me. He was my favorite anyway. “Whatever,” I replied. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my social media. It was my therapy, practically my life.

I loved to visit my nana’s house. As soon as I walked in, I could smell the rich, cinnamon-y flavor of the rice pudding bubbling on the stove. Most of my friend’s grandmothers baked cookies, but I thought rice pudding was way better. I ran to the kitchen, my bare feet going slap slap slap on the shiny wood floor. I ran up behind Nana and gave her a big squeeze.