Essay on Try or Die- Personal Narrative

Essay on Try or Die- Personal Narrative

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Try or Die- Personal Narrative
Funny thing, crime is. Some do it for fun; others are forced into
committing it. A crime always means that there is someone who ends up
hurt, upset or even killed. I, of course was one of those people
forced into committing it. Personally, I am, or should I say was a
nice person and it would break my heart to bits to see a person
suffering in any sort of way. But I had no choice. It was a matter of
life and death for me. A situation of “do or die”. I had no other
options. I know I should have died rather than do what I did. I was
foolish. Very foolish. Here is how my series of unfortunate events

It was dark. It was cold. There was a full moon out tonight. I
shivered in the eerie environment. I could hear the wind wailing
overhead. The moonlight filtered through the trees lighting up my
surroundings. I could sense the scent of dread in the atmosphere,
tense as it was. Perfect. I felt a menacing grin forming on forming on
my face. I took two paces forward, the golden-brown autumn leaves
crunching beneath my feet. I gazed up at the giant, gallant structure
standing strong and tall and read the sign on it. “NEWTON VILLAGE BANK
EST. 1884” I felt a mystifying gust of wind sway past me, brushing my
cold, lifeless face as it went past. Yes. Tonight was the night
alright. Tonight was the night I was finally going to steal the most
valuable and treasured thing to me: money.

I was crazy about money. I had been dreaming of being rich ever since
I was a child. I had been born into a poor family and throughout my
life, I had one desire, to become rich and successful and earn lots of

... middle of paper ...

...d already on
them. Not now. I had become so close to getting the money. I started
sobbing. If only there was some way I could escape with the money. I
had come so close to reaching my dream. My dear father’s word echoed
in my head making me sob even more.

“I said drop the money or I’ll shoot!” His voice sounding more
threatening than ever. I wasn’t going to give up. Not now. Life wasn’t
worth living like this. I’d rather have died than give up the money. I
tried screaming. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. I was too

“No,” I finally managed to squeak. “Never.” The security guard aimed
his gun at my already bleeding head.

“Have it your way then,” were the last words I heard before an
ear-splitting BANG…

Ever heard of the saying “Crime doesn’t pay”? Well it didn’t in my
case, did it?

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