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Personal Narrative: An Autobiography

Decent Essays

A lot has happened since someone- Bronte I think- said we should write everything down. Recording what’s happened, what we’ve done its sort of our way of proving we matter, that we might make a difference somehow. I don’t know if it’s just me but the inky words on paper, it helps. Helps to get the tangled mess out of my head and heart. It’s supposed to be our record, our history but it’s become more than that, it’s a way we might be remembered. Our chance to be more than charred ashes or a pile of brittle bones, that someone will appreciate the risks we’ve taken to get here.

It seems like only yesterday we needed a lollipop lady to even cross the road. Our biggest worries were subject selection and getting a job. Well all those dreams have …show more content…

I know it’s called being a teenager, but its only got worse since this war started and I can’t tell you how its been since I’ve started writing this. Before everyone was so eager for me to write, to leave our mark, our record, our story. We were so keen to get it all down. Now I don’t think they care one way or another. There’s no holding back, I warned them I wouldn’t. They said that was ok but that was before they read it. They’ve barely spoken to me since. I didn’t think I’d written anything bad. That’s not the way they saw it. The truth hurts sometimes I guess. I’ve been awfully wrong about this group. I still haven’t figured them …show more content…

We call it right most of the time, well at least more often than we call it wrong but that isn’t enough. Mistakes are so costly, too terrible. Ninety-nine percent isn’t enough, not in the game of war. Not when you think what that one percent could hold, that it could represent a human life.

You can’t escape the sound of a helicopter at night. Your ears rattle and the noise fills the whole sky. Hands clasp over your ears but it doesn’t matter, nothing can keep out the racket. All sounds are louder at night and even louder when you’re scared. The sound clings to you, chasing, stretching right to your dreams. There’s no escaping now.

I know sometimes we seem to be in a mess, like we’re out of our league and I suppose we are. We’ve just got to remember how far we’ve come and we haven’t done all that badly. We’ve knocked around a bunch of soldiers, got Ruby out with bullet wounds, and you can’t forget our stunt at the airport. For amateurs, that’s got to be worth something.

It’s all in your head, I’ve only just started to realise. Being brave is a choice, it’s a way of thinking, and you can’t learn or inherit it. Simply it’s a decision we are all forced to make and I know I’ve made

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