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Narrative essay about losing a loved one
Identity crisis essay for college essays
Essay on identity crises
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Recommended: Narrative essay about losing a loved one
I always had such emotions, such passion. Everything had it's own thought. Yet at this moment, I felt nothing. There was no sorrow, anxiety, depression, nothing. The gun laid in front of my shaking hands. A bottle of gin to my side, and a half smoked cigarette in between my fingers. Was it my time? I believe it is... I grab the gun and aim it in my mouth. My finger shakes near the trigger. I can't. I move quickly and shoot myself in the right shoulder. I squeal in pain and fall off my bed. Blood pours onto me and my floor. I hear my door burst open and the world turns silent and dark. I wake up in a cold bed, partially exposed. Unfamiliar faces surround me. "Mom? Mom..." I ask wearily. "Your mothers at home," a strange man explains, "worrying sick about you." I brush the last part off and close my eyes. "I'm Doctor Blairty, I saved your life. You should be thankful." I open my eyes and snarl at him. He rolls his eyes "Teenagers these days, they believe society only cares if they're dead." I interrupt "Or beautiful." He chuckles slightly. "Colt 45... How'd you get your filthy hands on that much power?" He asks with raised eyebrows. "My fathers gun collection," I answer, refusing to make eye contact, "he was always so proud of it." He looked at me in shock. "You're Mr. Fullsins daughter!" I look at him confused. "How do you know my dad?" He laughs lightly. "I tried to save him when he offed himself last winter, funny how things work," he he tries to hide his stupid smile, "wouldn't shut up about those stupid guns." My body tenses up. Yes, it's so funny that some poor mans daughter tried to end her life the same way he did just months age. Maybe I should file some complaint about this wackjob. A loud bang comes from behind the cur... ... middle of paper ... ...as a raisin. Her hair was a white as snow and framed her face. Wire-framed glasses were perched on her long bird nose. "Very nice to meet you, I'm Mrs. Lopitew." She out stretches her hand, which I decline. "We have everything you could possibly need." She says in an up tight fashion. "Where's my stuff?" I ask, staring her in the eyes. "You won't need anything from home." She smiles the most fake smile you could ever see. I start twitching like crazy. "Here you go." She hand my three cigarettes. I smile slightly. "Smoking will be done in one of the five special rooms. We have a huge spectrum of clothing for all tastes. We hope you find yourself at home." She smiles again, this time for real. "You remind me of my granddaughter," she strokes my straight, blonde hair, "So young and beautiful. Shall we go inside?" I nod my head. She walks in front of me, and I follow.
" It 's yours " He replies and opens the door and walks out. I begin reading a little and I see different color meanings. I cleaned up and went outside to check on the camp. Everything seemed normal until I heard arguing..
"Hold your hand Soldier. He's the bravest lad I've ever seen and I'll not have him whipped." He paused for a moment. " At least not until I've spoken with him and see what this is all about."
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.
But as a shadow flicks between buildings or a faraway window is shattered, a little voice speaks up telling you to run. It’s the awareness that, as a human being, you are no longer the apex predator- you are the prey. Now that little voice is screaming at me that something isn’t right. I should listen to it- I should really listen to it but the only thing running through my mind is that nothing will ever be right about the world now, and maybe nothing ever was. After weeks of contemplating the possibility of me being the singular survivor of an apocalypse that came too soon, the presence of this a blue-eyed boy assures me that I am not alone. The boy’s hand is clasped at the wound as I watch blood seep through his fingers and drip off his elbow onto the tiled floor. I am suddenly in awe of the events that have lead me up to this point in time; the events that have placed me here, standing on the broken glass of an abandoned convenience store’s window, pointing a gun towards a
“Come down here on the floor with him.” She pats the spot next to her. I shake my head, comfortable where I am on the couch, a safe distance away. “You’re going to have to engage,” she says. “If you want to be able to do this after I leave.”
Darkness was closing in, but I knew I couldn’t let the Germans kill the group. Using every ounce of strength I had, I picked up my rifle and began to shoot. The Germans were falling left and right, but they has spotted me. The Germans turned and began to fire. Fire then a sharp pain in my arm. I looked down at the blood gushing out of my arm when I jolted back. I had been shot in the other shoulder. I could only see shapes now. I began to fire into the sky I couldn’t control my hand. Hot lead pierced my throat, and I began to shake. Everything went dark except a light at the end of the tunnel. I went into the light and everything was silent I had finally found peace.
Gasping in terror I awoke and shot to my feet. He was gone, but where, how long had I been here and ...
“ Yes, three wishes. I will stay only until you have made your final wish. But other than that, I am yours.”
"Hello who is there!?" He yells once again as he lifts up his gun unsure of what might be lurking in the darkness.
“I’m tired of you and your low IQ.” In a fit of rage Richard pulls out a gun.
"No guns though, even they could not be trusted with guns. Guns were for the guards…"
It was a cloudy, late night as I stood against the concrete wall of the alleyway behind our old high school clutching a knife. Daton, my old high-school bully and now enemy, pointed a gun at me. It was a mystery as to how he managed to get the gun, but all I thought of was the bloodlust and excitement in his eyes as he pulled the trigger. The whole world slowed down as I stumbled to the ground. Daton laughed like a maniac and strutted away, twirling the gun like a gangster. I despised, envied him. Why me? Not him? I felt anger bubble up inside me. My body gradually got heavier as my eyes closed.
Beatty snorted, gently. “Hell! It’s a fine bit of craftsmanship, a good rifle that can fetch its own target and guarantees the bull’s-eye every time.”
My feet planted firm on the ground as I bit the inside of my cheeks to feel something. My pigtails and gray uniform forgotten along with my surroundings as I just watched death do his work. I didn’t feel like a kid anymore. The once peaceful scene turned into a mass of chaotic moments as soon as metal clashed on metal, and the remains of glass littered the floor of the street in front of the fenced gates of my school. My peers screamed loudly but the sound of the crash replayed in my head, but worst of all is that I saw the blond hair of the woman cover her face like a veil tainted red. My teacher ushered us to wait inside yet my mind was numb and my thoughts blurred as I heard the cries of the adults.
"Alright," is what he responded before shuffling over onto the chair next to me and wrapping his arms tightly around my body. He held me close to his chest, gently pulling me over onto his lap. "I...I'm sorry if I bring any trouble to you, if you tell me to go, then I'll go. I won't question it, honest, I won't. I'll just leave if you want me to, or if I ever annoy you," I whispered into his chest.