narrative story essay

I slowly opened the door of our cottage, being careful not to awake Mama. I looked across the stone road and saw the door of Ciara’s cottage slowly open. We meet eyes and join in the middle of our stone path as we start heading towards the village. Everything is quiet this early in the morning, and we don’t wish to disturb that silence, so we are quiet. She looks into my eyes again and starts moving a little quicker, into almost a gallop and turns to face me. “We’ll never make it going this slowly

I am going to write my personal narrative about when I was bullied by a girl named Anna which is not her real name but I will tell the story using a different name for her. So it all started when we were like in 2end grade. I happen to walk into rickers when she was in there and I guess she was mad because her grandma told her stuff that was not true about are dad’s. So she took it all out on me for years. She said stuff like you B word and other cuss words. I was like “ what did I do “. Then she

The prospect of wrestling rocks out of dirt under the sweltering summer sun versus spending a breezy summer day in the city, would seem insane by most. But a little physical torture in the morning could get Mae a pedicure and the red ankle strap sandals with the stiletto heel she’d had her eye on by late afternoon, made it an easy choice. Dexter turned off the main highway onto a narrow dusty road that went on for miles and miles. Scrawny signs, handwritten on torn cardboard then stapled to dilapidated

The winter sun slowly rose over the horizon erasing the shadows of the night and all the storm clouds that had brought winter’s first snowfall. The fresh snow lay like a blanket over the streets cocooning the city in an embrace while the winter sunlight quietly snuck into the darkened bedroom. It encouraged the crisp winter breeze to play with the curtain attempting to keep it out. The sunlight scared away the shadows that seemed to try to suffocate the room; the sunlight dance upon a figure that

One day there was a group of friends that always get along with each other, there was no fight, no detestation between each other. They were in high school additionally the princess Victoria peregrinated to school, she didn't like being treated different from others she wanted to be the same as other people. Everything was going fine, and then Victoria met a trustworthy girl denominated Maria and they were so close friends. But Maria was just utilizing Victoria and to know all her questions and,

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. Suddenly, a deep voice from the dark broke the joyful atmosphere, “Good evening.” “W-What is this?” Jhin questioned. “A stickup, buddy!” A tall and brawny man appeared behind the green trash container and limped toward them. “I will take that necklace you are wearing, lady!” He stretched out his hand and tried to reach

I have a scar on my right hand. It is just under my thumb on the backside of my hand. It is a thin, pale mark, roughly an inch long. How did it get there? Well, I’m glad you asked. It is an epic tale, not meant for the faint of heart. It conveys the utmost bravery on my part, more heroic than King Arthur’s knights! If you so insist, I shall recount the tale. It was October 3rd, 1996, exactly 373 days ago today. It was a warm Autumn day, the leaves that decorated the trees had just begun to morph

After a long day's work, you just want to go home and rest. Take off your shoes, kick back in your recliner, make some popcorn, and watch some TV. It was late at night, and John was just getting home from work. He thought it would just be a normal night where he watched his favorite shows, and eat so much until he knocked out of the couch, but that wasn’t the case. When John got home, things seemed a little unusual. From the outside of his house, he could see it was completely dark, which was weird

It was cold snowy day at the jones house. It was as cold as the ice on northern sea. It was very windy and a huge blizzard began to happen. The temperature felt as if we were standing outside in Antarctica. A few kids that were outside building miniature snowmans. It felt like a winter wonderland to them. Later they started heading inside to stay warm and safe from the storm. “Michael get in here!” Michaels mom shouted as she was covering herself to keep warm as a stove.”Coming!” he shouted back

Jake Parson’s mother called it the magic hour: the moment when a day passes into evening, when the earth feels suspended before darkness and slumber. In the gold and reddening light, an easy southwest breeze propelled Jake’s thirty-five-foot sailboat through the Beaufort Inlet for the first time. He had been delayed by more than a week. First, a storm had blown him off course, followed by a shift in wind that kept him off shore. He longed to see his brother, Glenn, who was waiting for him in port