Personal Narrative-The Death Serum

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

Meanwhile, behind the foliage, Tim was telling George how to give him the antidote for the etorphine. “Okay, so now you take that and use it on my arm.” He said calmly. He was, in reality, quite panicked, however.

“Why are you doing this, we could have rid the world from infection instead you want to do this!” Anton yelled, “It’s inhumane”.

“Hey dude, come here I think I can help you.” Junior looks around trying to find a person but can’t. He hears the voice again saying,

“Where did he get this?” Michael read the card several times and asked. “I remember him. He was with us about ten days ago. I am sure nothing we did killed him. When he came in, we did the same thing as always we kept him in isolation for a few days and gradually added the medication until he was ready. Mr. Walker was with a new group, but I am sorry we disappointed you, and I give you my word, and it will never happen again. What should we do about it?” Michael asked.

"Everyone we have a hostile making her towards Section BD. Everyone find cover in the bunker areas or come to help. Bring ammunition."

“Here, let me take you through some of the basics first. When I was waiting for you outside. You know, at Natalie's house. Your body chemistry and pheromones were producing the chemical to tell me right away that you love this girl. Why, just me mentioning her name is enough to cause a chemical change in your body that I can detect. Different emotions dictate different smells. You'll be able to smell embarrassment, hatred, humor, you name it,” he said smugly.

They kept leading us into rooms and such. We tried to stop but I guess we couldn't because first, we were sick, and second there were guns pinching our temple. The air surrounding us smelled like melon instead of contaminated, dirty air, but as it got sweeter, the dizzier we became, which had made us sick and weak. It felt like we were going to faint in seconds but we couldn't bare laying on the ground with the rotten human being in front of us. If we fell, we lost. When we got to this narrow corridor, we were smelling poison instead of anything. Pulling up the gas mask, A and N were undercover leaving us with suffocation and feeling of unfairness. It was totally unfair. What have we done to her? Did we really do something that bad to deserve this? We kept walking to this old basement room that smelled like mildew and as we turned around, goosebumps aroused my arms. We were standing in front of a wall filled with Ali’s picture. Apparently, this was OUr death plan when we died. And when we did, the police-everyone is going to think that we were hallucinating, loving, worshiping A. a trick that is easily fallen into. And I was going to give

He put on the headphones so only he would hear the conversation and everyone that was in the area left. “This is Brigadier General Clayton.”

(as James tries to fight off the needle he feels a sharp injection in his arm. his eyes slowly get heavier and heavier by the minute until he passes out.)

"We can't do that, not after the threat you pulled earlier." The same man says referring to the alchemy I had attacked them with moments ago.

“Yeah,” Frisk says, near silent. You hear, though. You always hear, and even sometimes listen.

A familiar, whiny tone barked back at him. “But, Aiden, I won’t be able to hear what’s going on.”

She watched him leave and climb atop his bike. He started it with minimal effort and soon disappeared into the light of day. ‘It was him,’ she thought. All of his words so fresh in her mind, had her frozen in her place. ‘It was him.’ Three simple words that kept coming back to her. ‘He said he’d be there.’ Molly knew the ball was now in her court. She could either call the game and walk away, or she could make a play. Either was the choice was hers’. She held all the control. It’s something she wanted. Death is ineviatable. How we die is something we can decide. Normally we are all on our crash courses with destiny, barreling at speeds we can’t even begin to comprehend towards whatever has been laid out before us. There are times when we can

"Don't insult me." Saïx snapped back, he then brought his attention to Xion. "Your mission today is with Axel. You are both to go to Castle Oblivion and retrieve the missing lab reports from our fourth and fallen member, Vexen."