Writing A personal narrative.

[Charles]

At the request of AnimeLover, I've decided to post a personal narrative I wrote. It's really embarrassing for me, especially since I reveal little about my personal life on the boards, but, here goes:

I was freezing. My skin quivered, as if in an attempt to escape my bones and flee from Old Man Winter. Bitter December winds scolded my ears, turning them a sickly shade of red. They throbbed incessantly, telling me how cold it was, as if I already didn?t know. My brother, Greg, had disappeared beneath layers of clothing. ?We?re almost home,? I said in an effort to reassure myself that he, in fact, was still there. Exhaling, I watched as a blast of steamy oxygen rose and expanded into a veil of mist. I thought that the molecules would crystallize and shatter upon the hard earth.

Peering out from beneath the brim of my hood, which seemingly did nothing, save embrace the arctic chill, my eyes met the plastic bag that stubbornly remained entangled in-between my numb fingers. My legs were tired. They felt like spaghetti, but I kept moving. All this for a can opener. Suddenly, red light bathed out the darkness, and provided a ray of hope. A police officer, noticing us through the darkness, had pulled over, come to our rescue--or so I thought.

Our hopes for relief quickly vanished when he sharply ordered Greg to remove his hands from his pockets. A shiver ran up my spine, but no longer because of the bitter weather. I rolled by eyes in disbelief. This couldn?t be happening--not to us. This isn?t fair. We didn?t do anything wrong. ?Take your hands out of your pockets,? he repeated. His eyes flashed as they moved over us. An Image of a snake studying two mice slithered its way into my thoughts. This wasn?t a joke. It was really happening--to us. Greg obeyed his order. When the officer spoke again, I half-expected a forked tongue to peak out of his mouth. ?I?ve received reports that two people have been committing suspicious acts in the woods underneath the bridge,? he said, his eyes now fixed on us in a glare icier than a side street on Christmas morning.

I never wanted to be looked at like that, looked upon with judging eyes that constantly probed for a sign of weakness Don?t break eye contact. Don?t look away. We may have been faced with a halfway reasonable accusation if he had defined ?suspicious acts? or had there been woods anywhere in sight, or a tree for that matter. What would we be doing in these imaginary woods during freezing temperatures: building a camp fire to keep ourselves warm? Once again, he reiterated his order, this time with clear apprehension apparent in his voice. Remove your hands from your pockets. The realization that he might arrest us for being cold set in, so Greg finally removed his hands from their hibernation.

A small layer of flakes had built up on the hood of his car; his dark uniform was speckled with wintry dust. After scribbling our names, address, phone number, favorite color, and whatever other erroneous information that turned him on in a small book, he sent us on our merry way. I felt a slight tinge of regret as he sped off. Unfortunately, I was never able to thank him for taking up our time and not having the courtesy to give us a lift. Bastard. Why didn?t I speak up for myself? The same question reverberated, like an echo, off the walls of my skull over and over again. So, why are you really stopping us? Trying to meet that Christmas quota? Pull in a nice bonus?

At that point, I had forgotten the cold. The entire ordeal almost reminded me of an episode of ?Gilligan?s Island?, where the hapless castaways meet a random stranger. Thinking that they?ve found their route to escape at long last, they place all their hope and trust into that stranger, only to be left stranded. At least something good did come out of that night; I found out that I should never give a woman a can opener for Christmas--even if she is my grandmother.

Somehow, I wasn?t surprised by the whole ordeal regarding the police officer. Only a year earlier, Greg had arrived home from the corner store, which was but two blocks removed from our home, when a policeman barged through the front door with reckless abandon. His invasion was one that seemed fit for a drug bust. The door had given way under great force, like a tornado had ripped the it open. Greg was torn from the floor and thrust outside, in one fell swoop. A proverbial natural disaster has just stricken our universe and altered it once again. His skin visibly pale, his eyes inflamed with terror, my brother buckled under the realization that some lunatic with a badge had just violated justice without explanation.

Curiously, the officer trembled as he explained that Greg had exposed himself to civilians and the officer himself. That?s right, he yanked the zipper on his shorts up and down and masturbated in public. Too bad there was no zipper on his shorts. It was impossible to explain to this man that my brother?s hobbies didn?t include masturbating on daily errands to the store, but the long arm of the law would have none of it. He sped off and Greg faced questioning without an adult present, literally forced to confess before he could be released. You?re a liar aren?t you? What really happened? I didn?t do it. Yes you did. You?re not leaving until you tell us that you did it. Justice my ***. It was painfully obvious who the real jerk-offs were. Perhaps my brother?s misfortune would allow someone to get a nice Christmas bonus later in the year, though.

It was a placid September evening when I next encountered the police. The sun touched the horizon in such a way, that it became hard to determine whether it was rising or setting. It clung to the skyline, stubbornly attempting to forever keep the perfect day in its grasp. My friend Rob and I had just left his house, bringing with us, bags from the mall. Before we could walk a block?s length, a cop car rolled up on the opposite side of the street and stopped. It looked like a mountain cat, eyes glowing, purring--ready to pounce. With a half grin, I playfully said, ?It looks like we?re in trouble again.? In actuality, I thought that there had been a disturbance at the house parallel from us. Bzzzt! Wrong!

?Get your hands out of your pockets,? they barked. Déjà vu. ?Put the bags down and get your hands out of your pockets!? Malice and frustration immediately swept over my body. What now? Were we speeding officer? I held my tongue. My friend wasn?t so patient. Rage and frustration got the better of him. ?This is harassment,? he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air, trying to walk away. I fought to hold in my cynical laughter as both cops swarmed around him, screaming ?Shut up!?

Neighbors poured forth from their homes, filling in the sidewalks as our hands were placed above our heads and we were searched. ?So, you guys like bothering little children,? one of the officers asked, his voice thick with patronizing hatred. That?s where it died for me. My sense of justice lie sputtering blood on the pavement beside me. That murder was never reported. One of the policemen asked me if I had seen any small children and when I told him that I didn?t, his mouth remained closed, but his expression called me a liar.

Frustration overcame me. Nice guys obviously finish last. Just ask the pack of teens and young adults that swarm around local businesses and the neighborhood drug house. A normal life is boring. Returning from my thoughts, I found that the police were searching for a thirty year old man, and a forty year old man who had been driving around the neighborhood, attempting to lure young girls. I am twenty-one years old, Rob is nineteen. Neither of us have driver?s license. I?m afraid of driving; I even showed them my monthly bus pass. But, like the pedophiles, we were wearing red and blue shirts respectively. Once cop told me that it was hard to believe that it was only a coincidence. I suppose that red and blue are exotic colors, removed from normality. Go figure.

As the police and I parted ways, one of them told me not to worry about my world falling apart if I was truly innocent. That day, I thought that I had lost something and I knew that his consolation would not return it. Before the better part of the neighborhood, I had been degraded, charged with the most embarrassing of crimes. Having time to reflect on the matter, I came to realize that I didn?t need an apology from the police; they never stole my pride or dignity. After all, those things aren?t theirs to take. I just better get over my fear of driving before their Christmas quota approaches.

[Mitch]

[color=red] Very nice, CWB. I think just that you had enough guts to post it up here shows that you're not afraid of the truth. Oh, and about how you don't drive yet, if anyone holds it against you, I will certainly make it a personal manner.

Other than that, it was great.[/color]

[zidane11]

I enjoyed it. How come you didn't want to post it? I think that it was great. Keep up the good work.

[Sara]

[size=1]That's a wonderful piece of work. Your dry humor and
acute sense of irony never fail to make me smile.

You really are a terrific writer, and I do enjoy reading what you've posted around here. Tho I don't suppose you need praise from me. [/size]

[Sui Generis]

*jaw drops and reads it for the fourth time*

I love it. I think its an excelent piece of literature! As Cera said I love your dry humor and sense of irony. I thourougly enjoyed it! I'm glad that you did post it and I admire your courage! That was really good I'm interested in reading more of your work..again great! 9.9999999999999999...*continues on for several hours)/10
(Just because noone can get a perfect score...noone here is perfect ;))

[Charles]

Heh, well, actually, the good comments mean a lot to me. Especially when you compliment the humor aspect. You're a good judge, so it's cool. ^^

That was really hard to post;I was afraid that I would get made fun of or something. But, I owed AnimeLover a personal narrative, lol.

So, yeah, thanks everyone.

Edit: Thanks for the 9.99999etc, Duo. I agree that something can always be improved as well. I'll see what that thing is, in particular, when my professor gives back the final copy.

[Roxie Faye]

[color=#9933ff]OOO. I really like the final version of this. I don't even see any differences than the copy I got, but whatever, I like it all the same "Mr. Oh my God, they liked my narrative".

Well, I mean what's not to like, coming from such a great writer? (no, I'm not sucking up, I think you're a really good writer. A lot better than am, seeing as how you actually FINISH the things you start.)

I'm starting to ramble so I think I'll just shut up now...[/color]

[Sui Generis]

Yeah thats the great thing about writing, its never over. But in all honesty I really hope I can write as well as you can when I am your age. I have a question, my English teacher thourougly enjoys this type of writing, would you mind if I printed this off and showed it to him I can give you credit, or I can keep it annonymouse, again its up to you. If the answer is NO I understand.

[Charles]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by DuoGod of Death [/i]
[B]Yeah thats the great thing about writing, its never over. But in all honesty I really hope I can write as well as you can when I am your age. I have a question, my English teacher thourougly enjoys this type of writing, would you mind if I printed this off and showed it to him I can give you credit, or I can keep it annonymouse, again its up to you. If the answer is NO I understand. [/B][/QUOTE]

It's okay if you want to show it to your teacher, lol. After all, I don't know him. I was just a bit hesitant to put it up here, because I actually interact with you guys regularly. :)

Oh, and Roxie, I basically trimmed out a large section, removed some confusing syntax, added a metaphor or two, and made some of the language more conversational.

[Sara]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by DuoGod of Death [/i]
[B]9.9999999999999999...*continues on for several hours)/10
(Just because noone can get a perfect score...noone here is perfect ;)) [/B][/QUOTE] [SIZE=1]::cough:: That's mathematically equal to ten.

And CWB: Well, I'm honored that you're honored...or something. ^^[/SIZE]

[The Vampire: Ed]

Very well written, and of course you managed to write one of the most embarrassing moments of our lives with a good portion of humor. Glad to see that, as it makes it all easier to look back and laugh at. Well, a little anyway. If anyone is wondering what I'm talking about, I'm Rob. I really felt like smacking one of those ignorant cops across the face.

Anyway, great work. But I really had no doubt about how good it would be seeing as how good of a writer you've always been.