narrative account.
+ + + + + There’s a sound. A loud, repetitive sound. Someone’s knocking at my window. I twist in my bed and mumble something about how it’s too early and I need my sleep, then turn around and lazily open my curtains. I hear my friend Amy’s voice, muffled by the glass. “Let me in!” the voice is saying. I smile then run to the front door, right next to my room. As I open the door I hug Amy and invite her inside. She sits with me on the couch while I eat my breakfast, Lucky Charms. When I finish she looks at me. I’m confused because she looks very serious. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re moving?”
“What?” I ask, bewildered.
“You have a For Sale sign in your front yard.” She informs me. I have a numb feeling of disbelief. “I didn’t know that…” I say absentmindedly and she takes me by the hand, leading me out of my house and into my stupid yard that seems unable to grow grass.
We are standing in front of the offending sign, put up by some realtor who is, at this very moment, my greatest enemy. Staring, my eyes start to feel up with tears and my chest gets tight. Why would my mom do this to me? Furious, I grab the sign and scream wordlessly, throwing it at the nearest tree.
I run inside to find my mom smoking a cigarette on the back porch. “Why are we moving?!” I demanded. “You always promised me that we would never move! How can you do this to me?!!” I see the shock spread over her face and she reaches out to me with a comforting hand. “Katherine…” she begins. I smack her hand away as hard as I can, wanting her to feel the hurt that I am feeling right now.
“YOU PROMISED ME!!!” I scream, knocking everything off of the shelf next to me. Pain, anger, those are the only emotions I’m feeling as I pick up a vase and throw it against the wall close to her.
She’s yelling something at me but I can’t hear. All I can think of is that I have to escape. I turn on my heels and flee the scene of the crime, hating everyone and never wanting to come back. I run until I can’t breathe, then grab the boughs of a familiar tree and climb until I’m afraid the tree won’t hold me if I keep going. Breathing hard with hot tears streaming down my face, I sit there for hours.
Please read and comment. Constructive criticism would be nice.