Personal Narrative-Trapped

As the Frost Festival finally drew to a close, the excitement of the frost fae, both royal and non-royal, began to wane as the festivities and parties died down, and the frosty multicolored flags of the various frost fae Clans were taken down and folded neatly for storage until the next Festival. I’d been working as a Frost Guardian for over twelve hours protecting the princess of the Snowflake clan, and, even though I thought that I was going to be beyond exhausted and more than ready for bed, I still felt strangely wide awake and even a little buzzed with adrenaline, like I’d gotten energy from the remnants of the festivities that had happened around me and the fact that I was finally training in the real world as a Guardian.

Hell, If I could, I would have turned right around. But I couldn’t. There was still something blocking my free will. It wanted me to go inside one of the buildings. Seconds later I feel the same force dragging me towards the A lettered building. 4 windows covered with dust shadow the view from the inside. I can barely make out the structures inside. Obviously everything was abandoned, so the sound of nothingness, not even the wind, was very eery. I arrived to the front entrance. You could clearly see how old everything was. The brick and concrete were beginning to crumble, chunks of rock falling from the building's sides. A large rusty chain was keeping the twin metal doors locked with a simple padlock on them. The rust seemed as though it was severe. A simple pull and the whole thing came apart with the lock on the ground. “How long has this been here?”, i question. Rust shouldn’t have weakened the metal that much. My legs alert me once more and I continue forward march. Through the twin doors, I was in what looked like an old, burned office. There was a receptionists desk in front of me charred black, filing cabinets all around were also charred. Everything in there was burnt to a crisp. There was no smell in there, so this was not recent. I continued up to some metal stairs which made some uneasy noises. Once up there was only one place to go, a conference room of sorts. Charred tables and chairs, but my legs keep me moving. They take me

Realizing my life had become unmanageable took place some time before coming to CityTeam. I was living day-to-day in my addiction, not caring about anything or anyone. Stealing was a daily task for me at this time; honest work was not an option. I was unable to keep a job because, no matter what, the drugs came first. Stealing, cheating and lying became all I knew of how to survive.

Then suddenly, a disconcerting fear latches onto your cold shoulder holding you tight. What if these walls eat you alive? What if the only things you will ever see ever again are the scuffed tile floors, plain walls, and flickering fluorescent lights? The fear makes your head spin, yet it yanks you back to this moment with its boney, thin, gray

Get me out of here. I know something is about to happen, I feel it in my gut. It's a setup for failure, really. A party at an estranged house on the edge of the city full of nothing but intoxicated and incapacitated teens. Something is bound to go down. I started to think of ways to get out without just bluntly saying it.

Sorry in advance if this is be too much information for some. . . .

It was a pleasurable day, striding down the hall in an enjoyable mood, but soon will be not. It was the very first basketball practice of the year, and I got to walk through the gym to get to practice. There were always a lot of people in the gym, so it's not easy to steer through. Lucky for me though, there were another set of doors at the end of the hallway, that would enter at the other side of the gym, and just walk straight. I thought I could just use the other doors to make it easier, when I was trying to get to practice. The gym was very crowded, so I tried using the other doors, but then got locked out.

I am in two extra curricular activities, wrestling, and I am an actor in the drama dept. play called

My body slowly responds as I become aware of my surroundings. My fingers curl around soft bed sheets and I vaguely hear the sound of clinking pots and humming. To get away from the sound, I turn my body over and get a face full of couch cushion. For a second, I can’t breathe and I’m transported back to the horrors of my escape. Paul’s hands are around my throat. Glassy eyes staring up at me in a pool of red blood. I’m choking on floating hair, dead limbs, and water. There’s so much water I can’t seem to get a breath. If I go to the surface I’m dead. Water swirls around me and then all is black. I sit up with a gasp of air.

I’m not going to lie, when Overruled was brought to my attention I was expecting some sort of Cop game or Lawyer game, like Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, but what I got instead was a boring, half assed game that failed to entertain me for more than 1 hour.

What is one to do if the person they dare say love, changes all the truths they know to be true? What about when you are left questioning every little piece of yourself, until you do not recognized the reflection staring back at you? Now, what is to be done when that person is ripped out of your life forever? Jesse was one of those people who came into my life by complete accident; we could have very easily never have met.

The mass of clownified humanity that we gazed upon was horrifically impressive. They were swarming upon the facility like a malicious rainbow sea. The facility was located in a secluded wilderness area and it had one road leading up to it. This road was stuffed with clown cars. Judging by how many of the vehicles were simply cars hastily and gaudily painted with spray paint, I deduced that much of this army was recently infected clowns. It turns out they had rapidly, within a day, recruited the next city over in preparation for this siege. Our wonderment was interrupted by the ricochet of bullets as the gun toting clowns fired upon us. It would take a lot more than that to kill this bird though.

I can hear screams around me, wrapping me in a blanket of loud screeching. I can't leave. The black abyss surrounds me, and I can see myself standing in the midst of it all, panic stricken. The screaming continues to circle around me until I hear voices floating in the abyss. I see the letters begin to encircle me, floating over me like a tornado ready to strike.

· I don’t know the whole truth about anything, but I know an omen when I see one. Burnt in my mouth, I sip on my overheated leftover coffee. The microwave clock shows five a.m., the glowing green the brightest light in the room. The stillness of the morning seems eerie, reality always feels a bit unhinged at times like these. As if I am the only person in the world awake, breathing the crispness of the air.. I practice what to say in my head, not sure what is true. The truth is in the details, but I cannot remember them. I am still and stunned into silence, choking at the start of any story. It sounds so pointless and dumb when I try to articulate it. These moments live in a casing of pure emotions, raw fear. How do I begin to talk to this therapist without sounding so emotional and petty? I have to get it right. Nobody will ever tell the history unless I do, but it’s too far away for anybody else to empathise with. There is no validation in silence. I longed for somebody to understand, to jolt me out of the isolation of dealing with it on my own. It has to be eloquent. I was sick, and still am, of being in limbo.

Probably not the first thought I that should’ve run through my mind while I was dangling 1,000 feet in the air off of the side of a mountain. But then again, I already knew how I got up there: as a novice, I was climbing a challenging, inclined trail with the hopes that my beat-up Chuck Taylor’s would support me the whole way up. Unfortunately, the Chucks let me down and one wrong step on a particularly steep incline landed me holding onto a metal bar holding on by whatever little grip strength my fingers could muster. the crisp mountain air gently rocking me back and forth, the lush foliage of the trees below me shivering in a feverish anticipation of what was to happen next. Up there I was afraid, probably more