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Personal Narrative: The Crossbow Leper

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Who said murderers can’t be young? I was normal like you until reality happened. The church was lying and adults were into adultery and alcohol. And the kids? What about ‘em. They are weak and traumatized from anything ranging from death and missing kin. The bubonic plague killed my mother, Anne, and my sister, Gabrielle offed herself. Meanwhile, my brother, John, and my father, Alistair………. where else could they be; at war. Who knows? Both of them may be impaled by swords or something like that. I get it, I’m troubled. I’ve gone to the point of insanity and is passed the blurred lines of reality. My perpetrating peers say I’m more looney than them. And they have been to the nuthouse and I haven’t! But I have been into pen and that’s where …show more content…

Wanna taste?” Farrimond shakes a beer jug in my face. “I want to grow up not mature my taste,” I refused. “Whatever.” Farrimond was the uncle I never had. He influenced the way I thought. He always say to me that the world is messed up and to join into the insanity. Obviously, I did and here today I am as a homicidal thief; the Crossbow Leper. I was inspired by Adam the Leper’s way of theft, so Leper would be part my alias. As I walk down the street away from The Masons Arms, I suddenly realize it was the afternoon because from the sun. I must have slept in. So it looks like it’s going to be soon for the pilfer at nightfall. What we do during the pilfery was that me and my associates try to assume about what really happened in the Hundred Years’ War and then put our thoughts into actions; dangerous, dangerous actions. Anyways, I'm going to the blacksmith to check if the old hag modified my dagger yet. It better be worth the money.After that, I’ll see if Simon, a weaponry merchant, still has that crossbow beauty. “Do you have my dagger?” I asked. “Do you got my money!” he greedily blurted …show more content…

I aimed for the grandmother’s chest, but I ended up shooting her granddaughter’s stomach because she was blocking the way. After that, my boys were stabbing the grandmother and granddaughter; well, at least that’s what Simon said after I panicked and ran away. I’ve done this about a million times before since when I was 9, but why did I run? Was it regret? I never had regret. Pity? I never have pity but to the ones who died from my hands. But she didn’t die; did she? I started tearing up for a second because somehow the granddaughter reminded me so much of my sister. At that time I was sobbing my eyes out. My brother and father caught me but I ran and I ran faster than Forsard Gumpert with the officer on his heel as Gumpert had crunchy bread in his mouth and oily sausage links in his arms. I was in a panic so I accidentally shot my bolt at my brother’s arm. “Oh crap! Uh, no regrets, that’s right; NO REGRETS!” I screamed aloud. The two stopped chasing me, but I ended up hiding in an abandoned shack of a peasant. Many think I am peasant, but since my father and brother works in the military, I got the title of a vassal without a lord. The people of the kingdom also call me a rogue vassal or rogue serf. But I’m not a vassal anymore because I’ve been here in town for four years

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