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Creative Writing: What Happened Here?-Personal Narrative

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"What happened here?" I asked, but he never said a word. I set down my things and kneeled beside him and took his chin in my hand, lifting his head up. His eyes were puffy and wet, I knew he had been crying, but I didn't know why. "What happened in here Michael?" I questioned again but he just chuckled and looked down. Okay, well. That obviously didn't work. Getting up, I grabbed a couple baskets and a couple of garbage bags and sat them in front of Michael. He hated cleaning, so this was my method of getting him to talk. It always worked. "Okay, you think you're a badass, coming in here and wrecking my dorm. Putting my Tv halfway in the Refrigerator. Why my TV Michael? Why not the fan.? But until you tell me what happened and what made you …show more content…

Why, wait of course nevermind. Why was Blake in here?" I asked as I put my hair in a bun and got off my bed. Michael just shrugged and said "I never got the chance to ask him that." It was then when I noticed his knuckles were bloodied and bruised. Only Michael would have the balls to stand up to Blake Asher for me. "Thanks Michael, and stop sleeping in my bed. No wonder why my blankets always smell like you." I shook my head and picked up the basket. "How about you clean up all the broken things and I'll separate my clothing from alex's. Fair?" I asked and he nodded. Getting to work, Michael started humming about halfway through cleaning my dorm. I was stuck separating my clothing from Alex's while Michael was picking up the broken picture frames. It took us both trying to get the TV out of the Refrigerator. Good thing Alex was in Ashton's dorm …show more content…

"Why?" I yelled into the phone speaker, feeling the tears run down my face. Faces started to turn around and look at me in the Cafe but I didn't care, I wanted answers. "Honey, you don't understand." She starts but I cut her off. "No, that's a bullshit excuse and you know it, it's been 19 years. 19 long freaking years with out a call, text, hell even a letter. So don't you 'honey' me and expect me to let you or any of your kids in my life. So you know what. Go to hell mom, and you know what. Maybe I'll see you there later." and with that, I hung up the phone with nothing but my tears falling down my face. Setting down some money and enough for a tip, I grab my things and head off. I didn't care that it was raining, it gave me an excuse for the tears that had been pouring down a couple seconds ago. I didn't stop running, I didn't care, I wanted to go back to my dorm, get into comfy clothes and drink hot coco. Such a white girl move, I know. My lungs felt like they weren't getting enough air to them, even though I was breathing a lot heavier than I should be. My feet were pounding against the hard cement, splashing water

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