Timothy's Room-Personal Narrative

Before the family leaves for the camp, the house is lived in and cared for, there are paintings on the walls and oriental rugs on the floors. Each of the children had their own rooms, in which they kept their own personal items and memories. These possessions mattered to the people living in the house. They held memories and beliefs. The house was no different than any of the other houses on the street. Neither was the family that lived inside of it. The mother and father tended to a

Soon after arriving to Richmond he met up with one of his friends, named George, who helped him move into his new apartment. The apartment had one bedroom that had a bathroom that was connected to both the bedroom and the hallway. It also had a kitchen that was connected to his living room. The apartment was located at the end of the apartment compilation on the second floor. The entrance to the apartment led into the living room which meant that the bedroom was located all the way in the back.

Right then. Let’s begin, shall we? So, in the mornin’ I goes to Elwell’s room; I typically find the dame with a bunch a little brats. She’s usually teachin’ em something or other like vowels and all that cal. I never getta work with her mornin’ group; the brats usually screw off before I get there. After ‘at, a group o’ wee little brats come in – first graders, I finks. “Right there, mate?” I always ‘ear from the little rug-rats ‘fore I tell ‘em we gotta get goin on the class. So I gives the brats their white boards ‘n there marker ‘n there erasers and such. Then I reads ‘em a list a little o’ words with vowels and stuff.

Araene wiggled in her seat during school. Tomorrow would be her friend’s birthday and she wanted to give him a present. After class, when Ein strolled past her locker, Araene bounced up to him. “Hello!” She squealed. “ Tomorrow’s your birthday and I was totally like, ay Dios mío! I need a present for my best friend!” She paused and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper to write down what he wanted. Ein paused,

Madison Knight read the dismal bank balance before placing the laptop on the coffee table. Pity tears threatened to fall, but she blinked them back and held tight to the blanket draped over her shoulders. Sinking to the couch, she dreaded the Oregon winter, the challenging snowstorms, and now the holidays.

But it was a start… or so he thought. The next three months went by without a word or attack until Thanksgiving eve. Terry was helping his mother peel potatoes while his father was reading the newspaper. All of a sudden, Terry’s father had a flashback. He dropped down to the floor faster than a fainting goat. He acted like a fish out of water; squirming on the cold kitchen floor. Terry’s mother continued peeling the potatoes, assuming it was just another average attack. It was not. As Terry looked over to his father, he remembered what happened at the hardware store; nervous laughing, his father crying, all the chaos at once. Terry realized that this attack was much more severe. He dashed to the landline, dialing 9-1-1 as his mother rushed

One day at our summer cabin in the woods me my mom,dad,brother, and sister were having a peaceful day except for that this time we were in danger having to live off the land. For we feared that some kind of creature had taken over our cabin. What was once a peaceful vacation spot was know a place of eeriness.

his room closest to the kitchen in his one story house. Technically, Timothy’s sister, Rose Mary, and

“Caitlin, it’s good to see you again,” Jessie Wells said to me as I signed into the hospital, it seemed sad that I had been there so much the staff knew my name.

That evening Kollins returned home, like everyone else at six. She ran up to her room, and wrote down how perfect everything seemed today. After, she scurried down the stairs, to find a fresh batch of cookies lying on the windowsill to cool. She bounced a cookie around in her hand until she was able to handle the heat. She grabbed a glass of milk and plopped down on the chair, diagonal to where her mother sat. A sheer look of sadness covered her mother’s face. “Kollins, I need to tell you something very important.”

“Come on kids it’s time to go up to the cabin for a weekend of fun,” said their mom Jessica, “If you guys want to make it there we have to leave now.”

We moved to the house on Wilhoyt Lane when I was in fourth grade. Before we moved to the house on Wilhoyt Lane we lived in a two story house in the middle of some fields. Before my dad got a job in Yerington my mom was a teacher in Fernaly and my dad did tile. The house that we lived in was a one story house that was in a decent sized neighborhood, with a small backyard. The house that we lived in Fernaly was definably smaller than the houses we lived in Yerington.

"You've got to come," said Colleen. "I'll talk to Joe," I responded, wanting to say

The first snowfall of the year had finally arrived one late November night, blanketing the small cabin and surrounding forest with fresh, powdery snow. The wind howled through the leafless trees, often relieving the weighed down branches of their snowy burden. The smooth and unblemished snow coated everything, leaving the road to the cabin indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain.