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What You Are-Personal Narrative

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This is What You Are

Two days later I was back at my aunt’s place, now resting in the family room despite my aunt’s protest, but my uncle was the one to actually insist I rest in the family room area until the cast came off saying that it would be bad if I broke something else. Rose was more than happy to remove all of my things from her second room and move them to the family room. She even brought my mattress and suitcases too, saying she wasn’t going to go back and forth fetching things for me. I was glad not to deal with her myself to be honest, she was so much like my second eldest sister that it made my skin crawl.
Tatyanna was always trying to find a way to stab me in the back. She was way worse than any middle school bully I ever met. …show more content…

Slowly they help me stand up. “Do you want to do this?”
“I’ll try it,” I say. Arnold smirks and then picks me up again as though he were picking up a bag of flour and not a human being that weighed much more. Sarah leads us down a hallway to an empty room that has candles lit around it. There are three brown leather chairs in a circle in the middle of the room, with ribbons of curtain hanging around the room in reds and burgundies. My first thought is that this place is a fire hazard, but once the calming scent of lemongrass hit my senses—the worry left my body. Sarah sat down first and immediately closed her eyes. Arnold placed me down in the chair closest to her.
“Hold my hand,” she said to me. I reached out and did just that. I felt no effect from the contact though. Arnold sat down last and then reached out for both Sarah’s hand and mine. Once we were all linked I started to quickly feel the effects of warmth and sensuality reach into me. I sigh, closing my eyes in response to the unique feeling of …show more content…

Sarah follows him second and I walk behind them both, albeit strangely since I still have the cast on my leg. Sarah gives me a checkered black and white scarf to tie around my head to hide my healed scar.
“How long have you and Arnold known each other?” Sarah asks once I reach the dining room table where Arnold is setting down a rather large pot of stewed meat with vegetables. The savory scent in the steam reaches my nose and causes my stomach to growl in alarm.
“For about a year now or more,” I answer absent mindedly as I start to use the ladle and spoon myself a bowl of food. It was the first time I’ve ever eaten something Arnold had cooked—and it smelled too delicious to just let sit there. I take my first bite and start to chew. I sigh with satisfaction, the meat, vegetables, and soup are a perfect combination of flavors. “This is some good food Arnold. I never imagined you would cook something so scrumptious.”
I glance over at Arnold then who is already half way done with a bowl of food. He shrugs his shoulders and then glances at Sarah who has polished off the first bowl already. She had probably drunk the stew to finish it that quickly. “I am thankful to you both for your help,” I say

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