Voice of an Angel - Personal Narrative

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Voice of an Angel - Personal Narrative It began two years ago on a sunny beautiful day in July. The weather was fine and there was a gentle breeze floating in the air. I was sitting in a science lesson, on the third floor of Brierton School. The day had seemed endless; it was like the day had been a month. I was silently waiting for the day to end. I was talking to my friend Geoffrey, when I noticed her across from the crowded room. She was like a red silk rose in a garden of weeds; her eyes were so bright they were like sapphires twinkling in the moonlight, she looked priceless, more expensive than pearl. Geoffrey nudged me, "What's wrong with you?" he asked. "Nothing I said, shrugging my shoulders, I just got distracted." Thoughts were spinning through my mind, who was she, where did she come from. Then the bell went for the final time that afternoon. I began the long walk home, it seemed like an endless desert, as I crossed the field I noticed her beautiful face again. She lit the fire inside of me; she looked so amazing, so gentle and sweet. In my mind she was an angel, she was the chosen angel of heaven. The next two days saw the beginning of a dark raging storm, an eternal hell to my spirit. The wind was colder than the Antarctic sea, icy and bitter. The heavens had opened a sky of rain on the school, I saw children playing in puddles like ants without a care in the world. Then I saw her, the prettiest woman on earth, she looked like a golden meadow on a summer's day. "Wait," I heard. "Wait there!" I turned around to see who it was, it was my friend Mark. He wanted the game he had lent me the previous week. We started to walk towards school. When she walked past me, it made me feel like jelly. She lit up the life in me, she looked different, relaxed. I felt different, I felt in love

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