This is the beginning to my personal narrative:
I was ready. The clock read 6:40 am. I was going to wake my mom up and ask for a ride. But before I decided to go get my brown shoes from the back. I took the key that was in the door out. When I open the white door the alarm sounded, it was deafening. My mom slumps out of her room.
"Fuck, Jessie."
"Do you want to hear a bedtime story?" My mom said.
I had a nightmare. I never had to tell my mother I had a nightmare. I just cried in my room until she came in asking what's wrong.
"What's wrong with you! Do you not understand what the key means?"
"I didn't know that's what that meant. I'm sorry." As she yells, I try to stay calm.
She would try to make me calm down. I would grab my stuffed panda and now grey blanket very tightly. She sat next to me on my blue sheets with pink flowers. My night light lit up the room enough where she didn't have to turn on any lights.
"I'm sorry." I said this. I wasn’t really sorry. I didn’t know what I did.
"Stop being so short. Give me a response. You arrogant ass."
"Fuck, Jessie."
"Do you want to hear a bedtime story?" My mom said.
I had a nightmare. I never had to tell my mother I had a nightmare. I just cried in my room until she came in asking what's wrong.
"What's wrong with you! Do you not understand what the key means?"
"I didn't know that's what that meant. I'm sorry." As she yells, I try to stay calm.
She would try to make me calm down. I would grab my stuffed panda and now grey blanket very tightly. She sat next to me on my blue sheets with pink flowers. My night light lit up the room enough where she didn't have to turn on any lights.
"I'm sorry." I said this. I wasn’t really sorry. I didn’t know what I did.
"Stop being so short. Give me a response. You arrogant ass."
"Do you want to read a story or would you want me to sing?" She asked.
"Story." I said. I liked my fathers stories better. He would personalize them to me or he wouldn't tell me the normal stories. I didn't dislike hers but I just thought my dads were more creative.
My Dad's not home so there's no one to protect me, when my mom goes close to crazy. She hits the box that controls the alarm. She has to enter the code 6 times. During this repetition, She continues to yell the same points at me.
“We never see you anymore.”
“You leave all the time.”
“You’re always up in your room.”
Different curse words are yelled in these sentences as they repeat.
The alarm won't go off so she picks up her phone. She dials the emergency number off the box. I feel bad for who ever is on the other line.
She's yelling, "Turn off the fucking alarm in my house. The code is blah blah blah. Just get it off!" The alarm seems like it's getting louder and louder by the second.
My mom had loud voice. Even when she was telling me a story. We were the only two people in the room but her voice would carry. She looked over at the book self “Which one do you want to night?”
“Im sorry.” I say blank faced. I didn’t have as many feelings as my mother did at this moment.
“Stop. Being so short with us.”
I hated when she did that. When pretended like my father and her were one. She likes to tell her self that I say the same things and acted the same way around both of them. I wasn’t short with my dad.
“Don’t use us.” I mumble under my breath.
She doesn’t hear what I say but she hears the murmur of words come out of my mouth.
“What was that?”
There were so many stories to choose from. So I begin to ramble. “Umm… The one about the Fairies or the witches or the big red dog or the black and white dog or the man and the tree or the ones that rhyme or Winnie the pooh or...No the one with bunnies.” By the time I pick a story all the tears on my face have fade away. My mom goes over to the bookshelf and grabs “Guess How Much I Love You?” The books cover is green and yellow. There is a picture in the middle that has a big bunny and a little bunny on it. Its very bright and comforting.
"Story." I said. I liked my fathers stories better. He would personalize them to me or he wouldn't tell me the normal stories. I didn't dislike hers but I just thought my dads were more creative.
My Dad's not home so there's no one to protect me, when my mom goes close to crazy. She hits the box that controls the alarm. She has to enter the code 6 times. During this repetition, She continues to yell the same points at me.
“We never see you anymore.”
“You leave all the time.”
“You’re always up in your room.”
Different curse words are yelled in these sentences as they repeat.
The alarm won't go off so she picks up her phone. She dials the emergency number off the box. I feel bad for who ever is on the other line.
She's yelling, "Turn off the fucking alarm in my house. The code is blah blah blah. Just get it off!" The alarm seems like it's getting louder and louder by the second.
My mom had loud voice. Even when she was telling me a story. We were the only two people in the room but her voice would carry. She looked over at the book self “Which one do you want to night?”
“Im sorry.” I say blank faced. I didn’t have as many feelings as my mother did at this moment.
“Stop. Being so short with us.”
I hated when she did that. When pretended like my father and her were one. She likes to tell her self that I say the same things and acted the same way around both of them. I wasn’t short with my dad.
“Don’t use us.” I mumble under my breath.
She doesn’t hear what I say but she hears the murmur of words come out of my mouth.
“What was that?”
There were so many stories to choose from. So I begin to ramble. “Umm… The one about the Fairies or the witches or the big red dog or the black and white dog or the man and the tree or the ones that rhyme or Winnie the pooh or...No the one with bunnies.” By the time I pick a story all the tears on my face have fade away. My mom goes over to the bookshelf and grabs “Guess How Much I Love You?” The books cover is green and yellow. There is a picture in the middle that has a big bunny and a little bunny on it. Its very bright and comforting.
(If you want to read the rest... Well just ask.)
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