They Were Never Alive?-Personal Narrative

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It was a beautiful summer morning in Sunnydale. The birds were chirping, and the butterflies were gracefully flying in the clear sky. My parents and I got in a fight, so it wasn't so great. I hit my mom, because she and my dad were yelling at me really loud. Then my mom gave me two choices: to leave the house or go to my room for a while; I decided to leave, because I don't want to be like Rapunzel in that terrible room. Right now, I am sitting on a big grey rock in the middle of a quiet, big forest. I am staring at one pretty rose in the forest. In the afternoon, I was walking back and forth, cursing at my parents. Saying things like, I wish that they were never alive. I didn't mean it, of course, because I love them, but I just was so mad.

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