Personal Narrative Fiction

My past effects the future, the future is a result of my past, I begin to become the things I hate, but I might realize it all to late. "I'm...sorry." I say, as I stare at the ceiling of my room. I begin to slowly turn my head to face Aundre, whose sitting across the room on a small white sofa. I'm sprawled out on my bed, feeling so weightless...and careless.

I see my life flash before my eyes as i plummet down to the boundless ocean, but as i just about hit i feel something sharp grabbing me. i start moving farther and farther away from my certain death.

I lay in bed, my eyes squeezed shut in pure terror. The hair on the back of my arms and neck stand straight up on end. The window to the bedroom has just been pulled open from the outside, and I'm too afraid to move, too afraid to see the person who’s breaking into the house.

Soon, though, by the time the bonfire was growing unnecessarily large thanks to a stack of pallets being sacrificed, and the atmosphere was becoming one of drunken mischief and mellow lackadaisicalness, I was about ready for a little quality catching up time with Maria.

Trevor’s eyes widened as a surge of energy flooded his body. The small figure wasn’t a figment of his imagination after all. Just when elation threatened to overwhelm him, reality crushed it.

The kids entered the trapdoor and climbed down as fast as they could. They could hardly handle the fear screaming inside of them. When they reached the bottom, Kathy dashed towards them. Met realized there was no hope and she froze. Kathy was dashing straight towards her. As Johnathan ran, he realized May wasn't possessed, and he wasn't either.

I follow after the high power mage from behind. As darker as the day goes, the temperature follow pursuit. I slide my hands into my pockets to stay warm. I shiver just a bit from the weather. Normally, someone may be warm from my clothing. However, I'm not used to being outside very much. Inside my mansion, I don't have to worry about being cold or warm. Not a single thing for me to worry about in life. Maybe that's what my parents had set out for me. So their useless son doesn't cause anymore trouble for them.

Sky and asked. “How do you mean he is peculiar?” Edmond smiled. “Andrew believes in Fay magic, crystals, ruins stuff like that. I am always seeing him doing some kind of chant or magic with crystals and poems. When I told him of our situation he said he can help you get through this.” Sky looked sorrowful at Edmond and whispered. “Let’s hope so.” He could feel her fear and he hated it.

We’re letting her get to us aren’t we?” I said. “Only the army animated with the same spirit throughout its ranks can reign victorious.” I quoted Sun Tzu. GRACE SQUINTED AT ME. “ We can only win if we work together.” I translated. “Gotta hand it to the Chinese philosophers,”

“You should really try that cologne I got you. Your gasoline musk is a delight, but it’s been bleeding into the furniture,” Leila giggled at her own teasing, “I’m starting to wonder if you’ve been bringing your work back here with you.” She was always trying to joke when she thought Mack was becoming upset, and his frequent hair ruffling had not gone unnoticed. Leila was the personification of cider, warm and bubbly, but despite the good nature he loved about her, or rather, all of the women Mack tried to make himself fall in love with, she too would not understand his plight. He smiled carefully and his stress habit was about to be repeated before he dropped his hand onto the empty couch cushion beside him. It had begun to smell like a car

A steaming stack of pancakes was set out on the table with a jar of maple syrup and a dish of butter. A jug of apple juice had been set out as well. I poured myself a tall glass of the juice. I stabbed two pancakes with a fork, slathered them with butter, and drenched them with syrup before digging in.

The dark side of the great empire, New York, is filled with the obscure Mafia . Over the heights, there are city lights so bright, it blinds you to see what's underneath the plastic appearance of New York.

Juliet stared at the pregnancy test in her hands. Two lines, meaning she was pregnant. So many thoughts raced through her head at that very moment. On one hand she was so excited that she was going to have a baby with Shawn. But were they ready to be parents? They'd only been married for a year. What was Shawn going to say when she told him? They had talked about having kids before, and it seemed like Shawn wanted kids, and of course so did she. But was it too soon?

So we walked upstairs to my room. She goes into my closet grabs the clothes she wants, and changes. She walks out with, reapplied black lipstick and thick eyeliner and this time with black eyeshadow too. Her outfit is different. Black leggings, tight black tank, black gloves, her black leather jacket, 4 in. heeled boots, and she doesn’t have her wig on so its her dark red hair. “You look like you’re about to go kill somebody.” “I might be.” She says totally serious. “I hope not.” I say jokingly, even though I’m seriously worried. We walk downstairs. Just as I’m about to open the door. “Alice, hold on a sec.” she tells me. She walks into the kitchen opens the drawer, and grabs the dagger my dad keeps in there and slides it into her boot. She

She thought it was over. His words had been final, driven with a hammer's blow into an eternally buried coffin.