Belle-Bramble-Personal Narrative

It seems like yesterday when I met Ezrith Wolfe. The first day I met Ezrith was the day before my birthday August 11, 2013. Ezrith and I became best friends very quickly. We liked to do a lot of stuff when we saw each other. Both of us talked about a lot of things that we had in common with each other. Ezrith was my best friend and we did a lot, I just wish that we could have done more together.

After walking in on his sub cheating on him with the security guard, Taden McIntire had decided it was time to make a change. He wanted to have a life where he didn’t hate himself at the end of the day like he did working on Wall Street. Reading an advertisement for new entrepreneurs in the small southern town of Cedar Falls, Taden decided to roll the dice and move.

THE LINE BETWEEN DISGUSHING the sober from the drunk is blurred. giggles pierce her ears, instead of the HEAVY music, but she lets herself drown out the mere voices with hennessy. and what a friend hennesy had been to her. hennesy, was one of her truest companions through all her MAJOR milestones of her life. but tonight she wanted something different, to befriend someone new — jack, jack daniels. who other than a new friend to keep her company in this toxic wasteland intertwine of intoxicated strung out souls. except there’s a tiny problem that alludes to her in the back of her mind. she’s broke. using the term broke with such light ease would be an EXAGGERATION on her part. she had money, but not enough to satisfy her current craving. her

Ella Wood. That’s who I am just Ella Wood a 16 year old girl who never really had much going on and who not many people knew. At least that’s what I had thought a few hours ago when my name wasn’t on the news and pretty much every other place that you could think of. You may be confused as to what I’m talking to you about, so let me tell you a story. Let me warn you though this is not just any story, but my story. First of all let me introduce myself a bit better. I live in a town that’s kind of big and called Blackview. I love to make music it’s one of my special talents and I could also dance. I have an older brother named Tyler. I also have a twin brother named Ethan we’re practically inseparable. We’ve done a lot of things together and

I remember the night I was taken from the home I had lived in for nine years. I’ll never be able to forget that night no matter how hard I try.I lived alone with only Daddy to take care of me. I don’t Think Daddy ever really liked me. I know that he had always wanted a boy. He would never have the chance to have one because two years later mama died from small pox. After that daddy would barely get out of bed, and when he did he would go down to the local saloon and buy a bottle of rum and sit on the curb and murmur to himself as he drank the bottle down.I wouldn’t of survived if I hadn’t meet Dame Kleur, african for color lady. People called her this because of the colorful beads she always wore around her neck. I met her one day when

It’s officially been two days since I’ve last spoken to Zach. There was no doubt in my mind that he was avoiding me at all costs since my failed confrontation with him. Our parents came back from their business trip last night and took notice. It wasn’t hard since every time we were forced to be in the same place together, we’d glower at each other and then act like the other isn’t there. They were lucky that looks couldn’t kill or else they would’ve been dead two dinners ago.

There was a carnival going on and i didn’t want to miss it plus there would be so many kinds of wine that there would be and that i can drink but with all this coughing i don’t know if i should go or stay here in my house but i had to go because i found this good costume to go with mine personality.I was on my way to the carnival with my costume looking like a jester and it’s going to be funny to see how there faces are going to be. I made it to the carnival and i have drank a lot of wine and now i can feel myself right now there are so many people here and now i having fun i already had 5 cups of wine and there are more to go.i was going to go somewhere when i bumped into someone that i knew it was Montresor what was he doing here i thought

It had been a month since Bud Shirley’s death. At only sixteen years of age, young Belle Starr stared at the gravesite with a heavy heart. Her brother had been by her side since her birth in 1848. Her mother had taught her to enjoy ladylike pursuits, but Bud had taught her how to ride and shoot a gun. Belle excelled at marksmanship and put herself above any man. With Bud gone, Belle found a new way to exploit her talent by running away from her Missouri home and stealing riches. As a right hand to Jesse James, Belle was the “Bandit Queen” and was an outlaw in her own right. In her travels, Belle had never forgotten her brother’s murder at the hands of Yankee soldiers. As she stood at the grave of her brother, her partner, Bruce Younger, dismounted his horse.

Today was June 27th, 1913. We all gathered in the town square. My son, Dickie Delacroix, was gathering stones with the other boys. My husband was talking with the other men. I was nervous and anxious because it was the day of the lottery.

First of all I just want to say, no judging, oh and I know what you are thinking, it’s, just get to the point! Isn’t it, well too bad, because I might be talking about, let’s say, dogs eating tacos, and suddenly tell you a story about the one time my cousin made the best taco I had ever tasted, just like that, anyway, here we go. I was getting ready to start my normal day, in my normal job, as a normal 11 year old kid, in a not so normal school, then again, no school really has anything “normal” about it.

I crossed the channel in the hull of a steamer ‘Le Brochet’. I went via La Havre because it was cheaper, but it meant the journey took two days all up. That was a miserable time. Stowed in the fetid saloon of the ship, I was ill throughout the trip. All I remember of the crossing is claustrophobic darkness, punctuated by occasional groaning. Almost a hundred and fifty other third class passengers accompanied me in the saloon. It cost less than a cabin, and so the saloon attracted the motley poor like a free Church lunch. In the squalid space there was just enough room to lie down. I passed the journey with a bucket next to my head, into which I periodically retched. I was in good company; almost all the saloon dwellers were likewise occupied. We weren’t allowed on deck – only passengers with a cabin could go above. While they restored themselves in the fresh air, we remained in the stifling dark below. Slowly time ebbed away below deck. Bucket in hand, vomit in bucket. Sweaty darkness all around.

Arrogance and cockiness set aside, I would make an awesome dad. I did not forget what it was like to be a child. I know that once I had a child my life would be put on hold and dedicated towards raising "The Spawn of Clarey." I would not brainwash him to be a leftist, a feminist, a rightist or a Christian, but would instead impart upon it logic, empiricism, morality, philosophy, and independence letting it choose its own path in life. And above all else, unlike nearly all my Gen X parental counterparts, I would actually stay at home to raise The Clarey Child instead of outsource it to a government baby sitting farm or "day care" concentration camp facility. It is without a doubt that I would make a great dad.

I no longer remember the date, at this point. It doesn’t particularly matter, anyways. The height of the summer month has passed and the air is beginning to cool some, although the humidity has not yet began to let up. Today I have seen firsthand the feeble attempts the boys make to disguise their bloodthirsty tendencies and primal instincts as means to feed and secure themselves from the beast.

He did not care that he had been on the late shift, and that she had her alarm set for six in the morning. Ric settled for drinking coffee and reading the morning papers in bed with Serena. They were not officially cohabiting, but they were as good as doing so; they had often shared mornings like this, far from their usual rush around when alone, being together seemed to make mornings far more organised.

I wasn’t always a witch. I had a name once, - Ysenda - and a family. I was the daughter of a lesser known nobleman, but lived a comfortable lifestyle nonetheless. But of course, that was all before disaster struck.