Personal Narrative-Home

“Dad!” Was the only word that had rushed out of Russell’s mouth the instant he saw his father enter the room. And, once he finished hugging Cary he then added, “Have you found him? What did those people you arrested say?”

“Why, so she can go on and on about how long we haven’t seen each other?”

Xavier was beginning to have a light problem with involuntarily being knocked out or foreced to sleep. Again. He was honestly surprised no one in the house coined him Sleeping Brutee. Okay, maybe it was lame but his head really fucking hurt. His slowly dragged his hand and placed it on his forehead, dragging his arm indeed was a challenge. It was like he was carrying his own dead weight around...in his dense state.

I get up, and yawn I knew I had school today so I stumble to my feet. I knew my mother would be really mad at me. I run down the stairs as Nathan yells food is done. i beat my brother and my sister down the stairs because i knew they wouldn't save any food for me. as i ran down the steps i yelled through the door what we having…… i looked it was oatmeal with ham i stopped dead in my tracks i knew this was going to be nasty. i told Nathan i didn't want any he said oh you have to have some. i pout and say no thanks i hate oatmeal it's horse food. she picked me up and sat me on the chair. Nathan said you will not leave until all the food is gone off your plate my face gets red i always would like to think i was Tinkerbell off of peter pan cause

It's the smell that hits you first. As you lug open the big and awkward, reddish-brown-painted door decorated with its tired hinges, that creak like the moaning of difficult and crabby old men, a puff of the sweet, old and bad-smelling odor of last summer's straw presses from your first, slow breath into your nose. Then you detect the undertones: the hot and humid, snobby musk of animal fur and the sharp smell of old, oily metal and machinery. Soon after the smell, your eyes make up for the dim paleness of light, and you begin to make out the shapes of dusty frames of wooden stalls and poles, and the heavy chest of the loft that hangs from the ceiling.

I must have drifted into a restless slumber at some point during the night because I was awoken by Isaiah shaking me. The sun was out and birds were chirping. It was peaceful. One could almost relax. I sat up off of the hard ground. After having fought over who would sleep on the bedroll, he wanting me to and I, vice versa, neither one of us slept on it. I didn’t have nearly enough provisions to last both of us. I pulled out a piece of meat and some bread and handed it to him. He took it gratefully. I found that I did not have any appetite.

'I had to brush the snow off of then main door's handles- which I guess was a sick reminder of how people seldom came to visit and seldom got to leave. It was an old building with what I hoped was an outdated sign. The doors were heavy and difficult to pull open, but I hadn't expected anything less. A wave of regret and cold shivers came over me as I took my first step into Winterwood. The air was dry and much hotter than the bus and for a split second I had the urge to turn around to see if it was still there. From the exact moment that I looked upon the sanitarium I had an overwhelming sense of fear. The feeling hasn't gone away since.

The small leaking sink in the corner is hypnotic. Drip, drip, drip echoing through the cold concrete room keeping my mind settled like soothing background music. The striped shadows on the floor are confusing my eyes. I began to awaken my mind as I realised where I am. I feel the cooled air in my skin as I hear the faint sound of footsteps getting louder and louder. Eventually stopping right outside the once quiet room. I hear the sound of keys as the man looks through them and the click as he unlocks the door letting the door roll open with the eerie sound of rusty hinges.

July 2nd. Leaving the house in the early morning with the sun barely shining as it is coming out from its hiding place behind the trees, my mother, Magvern (my brother), and I were taken to LA Greyhound station. Walking inside with our luggages tailing behind us, we see families clustering around the ticket and information desk. With our already printed tickets in hand, we walk toward the baggage check before entering the waiting station for the bus. As we wait for our departure, my brother took out his phone and my mom starts to crochet while I am left to my demise. Out of boredom, I start to text my cousins; however, no was awake yet. Staring at the blank screen it felt like hours were passing by. Finally, I saw an icon flashing, Lily was on! The moment did not last

It was just a regular November night. I was about halfway through 4th grade and was enjoying it. I was playing in our basement at the time. I didn’t notice that there was a partially big mess in the basement. Then all of a sudden, I heard the inviting voice of my mother yelling,” Time for dinner.”So my little 9 year old brain thought Oh boy, dinner. So I ran to the stairs, still not noticing the mess. Tripped over a chair, then fell up the stairs…… and broke my wrist.

I couldn’t breathe. It was like drowning but without the water. Blink after blink, my vision seemed to degrade, but the pain was gone and I could feel my wound gradually healing. I couldn’t see much, just three moving figures pacing back and forth the room.

Edward stood up from the table, walked a few paces towards the exit and placed a hand on Tabitha’s shoulder. He turned and stared at the men and women seated in front of him.

“Help” cried Lydia as she struggled with homework. “What, what happened?” Lydia’s mom asked. “Nothing, nothing happened I just cannot figure out how to do these math problems.” Lydia replied. “Oh I’m no good with math, maybe you should ask your father” her mom said. “DAD!” Lydia cried. “What?” he yelled from downstairs. “I need your help with something,” she replied. Lydia’s father came running up the stairs. “What is it,” he asked. “Math” she replied, “What kind?”, “Multiplying exponents” Lydia replied. “Oh I’m no good with that, maybe your mother could help.” her father said. “UGH!” cried Lydia.

My eyes shutter as a sliver of bright light casts itself over my sleep deprived being, waking me up from my oasis. My shoulders rotate towards my back as my arms reach over my head stretching towards the sky, and make there way back to my sides again. I muster all of the energy my drained body can provide and slowy sit up, leaning on my forearms. My eyes pan across my sanctuary one last time before I get out of my inviting bed, and mentally prepare myself for the twelve hours to come.

The crisp air on the fall morning sprung everyone out of bed. The mounts of dew on the freshly cut grass made it hard not to hear the squelch of the mud when someone walked through it. When I was walking to the bus stop to get to school, I noticed a tall, big , and muscular man’s shadow walking directly behind me and watching my every move. I got very suspicious so I decided to pick up my paste. When I realized he picked up his paste to I knew he was after me, I turned down this long and dark alley and disguised behind the bushes. The only thing I could think of doing was to call my mom, I told that I was in danger so she told me “ remain quiet so he won’t hear you” I said ok and mumbled what he looked like so she could tell the police. As soon as I hung up I saw him pacing back in