Personal Narrative-She's Smoke

It was dark and alone and I felt the need to cry. One by one everyone I have ever loved showed up. My mom, my sister, my late girlfriend, my grandma… I could go on. Their eyes were on me and only me. I was the only stimulus in the room. The yelled at me. I was irrational . I had put them in a situation where they didn’t even know me anymore. I was the monster under the bed and I was the reason why people were scared. They yelled so loud to the point where I didn’t even know if they were screams anymore.

1.There’s no way for her to escape 2.Her hands and feet are tied behind a chair. 3.Shes in the woods, in a cabin. 4.There is a light bulb hanging on the ceiling 5.With a string that can turn it on and off. 6.Her eyes are covered with a red bandana. 7.She can feel him walking toward her.

On a Saturday morning, around 10am, my family was getting ready for my niece’s (Maritza) 4-year-old birthday party. After 12:30pm we were already at my sister’s (Adele) house, ready to give my niece a hug and her annual present. At the moment Maritza wasn’t home, so I stalled for a bit. Chatted with their neighbor, few high school friends, and their wife’s. Finally, she showed up along with her father. The first person she hugs is me, I’m her favorite uncle, according to her, as she hugs my legs and looked up and says, “hey uncle J.” I replied “hey?” with a bit of a curiosity on my mind. Her lip had a big red lump. I managed to not ask her what had happened on her lip. I’m thinking it’s a “I fell down” type accident. The party went off, and

“Petlon get in there,”Coach said. At first I was like what does he mean. I was confused because at the time Eli was a better center. I figured I should hustle out there and give it my best try, so that’s what I did.

Ignoring me, he continued, "She broke up up with me because I bought her a simple neclace for her birthday not the diamond bracelet she wanted."

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

Me and my cousin Roxanne were close. She lived in the country, so my sisters and I would go to her house every Thanksgiving and play in the small woods that she had in her backyard. So many wonderful memories that I will never forget. Growing up, we would share each other’s secrets and promise each other not tell anyone. We would tell each other what was bothering us in our families, how we feel, the guys we dated, and the guys that broke our hearts. Over the years my sisters, me and Roxanne kept ourselves busy with school, church and our jobs. We grew apart and stopped talking to Roxanne less because of how busy we were. Sometimes we would not have thanksgiving at Roxanne’s house and have Thanksgiving at my grandmother’s house. The last time we were all united, we noticed Roxanne had changed

I became a little obsessed with her. Whenever I took out her photo my head couldn’t stop from tilting and my eyes couldn’t stop from peering closely because the image itself was awe-inspiring in its simplicity. She couldn’t have been more than four at the time it was taken; her dark ringlets fell close to her waist and she was young enough to where the strands looked as fragile as the dandelion she held gently in her hands. Her mouth was forming a smile as the white tufts drifted away. Of course, it’s a still image, but I felt as if I was there in the moments following the snapshot, when she giggled and reached for the little seeds floating away, a brazen grin on her face. Who knows what she wished for. Her eyes were the type that stayed sad even in the lightest of times, and sometimes when I glanced

There is nothing but silence at first. Then the floor starts to crumble beneath your feet. The walls around you begin to fall to pieces. Each crack reveals a blinding white light from behind it. The ground suddenly falls apart, yet you find yourself still standing. The light from below hurts your eyes from its intensity. The walls fall away entirely, and you are no longer able to see save for the light. You shut your eyes from the pain. After a moment, the light seems to fade, and you open your eyes. You and your fellow survivors are standing in nothingness. Your surroundings are pitch black for what seems to be forever, yet each of you is totally visible. The floor suddenly starts to reappear, wooden panels suddenly flying into place under

May She’s a graceful misery destroying everything in her path. She wants it all: the demons, the darkness, the beauty, the passion, the mayhem, the destruction.

Strumming the strings of her lute, she entrances the crowded travern. She casts spells upon others, using only her voice and sheer charisma. She smiles, regaling them with tales of brave knights and fearsome dragons, or beautiful maidens with flowing golden hair. Someone tosses a coin at her, and it lands near her dancing feet with a metallic clang. She nods in appreciation, but never misses a note or bar in her song. The bard continues this way until closing time, before rejoining the others in her band of theives. Leaving satisfied that her pockets are heavy with jangling

Why are we making so many sandwiches?” Tia asked, rudely talking with her mouth full of the pink lady she rudely stole from my fruit basket all while rudely sitting atop my kitchen counter. “And why can’t I have one?”

I walk back to the camper quarters or as we call it, The Loud House, I see Williana and Sandren talking. Then Sandren leans forward and Williana leans forward. Then they kiss! I should have known. Man! You know to me Sandren looks kinda cute, with his tattoos and short hair, with all those 216 pounds of muscle! He was a girls dream. And now Williana is Sandren’s girl. I feel so stupid! I should know by now, heck I should have known by day ONE! The way he held her close, the way he hugged her goodnight, the way they talked! UGH! Now I’m in bed. I look out the side and see a picture taped to the ceiling of our bunk. It’s Sandren’s. Could my life get any worse?! I saunter down to the cafeteria. I see Sandren sit down. He looks depressed. I see Williana sit four tables away, she was crying. Now that I recall… I did hear loud voices outside the Loud House… Maybe! Just maybe, Sandren broke up with WIlliana!

As I turned to let the last customer out, my lips met his and we found ourselves on top of the counter. I grabbed his cock and rolled it back and fourth until his dick was wet. As I pushed him inside of me, I encouraged him to pound deep and hard so I could feel his thrust throughout my body. I could feel his excitement coming to an end. As my lips parted, what I did not drink, trickled down the side of my mouth. I smiled and then we kissed. Five years together and he still knows how to get me going.

The most authentic and distinct from the crowd I’ve ever felt in my life is probably back in high school during my senior year when I participated in the annual school talent show. At the talent show, I played piano. I have always enjoyed music. I joined the school band my sophomore year and learned music at an accelerated pace, as well as teaching myself piano in my own time. So at the time, during my senior year, playing piano was probably what I liked to do most, and I had gotten pretty good at it.