Narrative

Personal Narrative By Justin

justin1516 0 - Personal Narratives, 6th Grade Writers, Justin

                                                                                 The Cat Outside.

It was a nice sunny day outside at my old house in Modena NY. I was sitting on the porch thinking if I should go to the yard. I grabbed my cat Jeffy because I wanted to see if he liked going outside on the grass. He went down the stairs one leg by the other. When he got down the stairs I felt scared but at the same time I felt excited. I could tell my cat was excited to explore. He ran right to a certain spot by the house and sniffed for a while. I got a little scared so I put him on a leash that had weird fuzzy spots of red on it.

I walked around the yard with him and then he ran over and sniffed a tree for a really long time. When he was done he slowly made his way to a rotten old crumbling shed in my backyard. I saw a super deep dark hole under the shed. He sniffed it and tried to go under to see what was under, but I picked him up and put him down on a soft part of the ground. It was so soft that if you took off your shoes and put your feet on the ground it felt squishy cold and soft, kind of like a sponge or a cold pillow on your feet.

Jeffy was climbing up my jungle gym to see what was up there. He could barely get up there because it was so windy to climb up a staircase.  It took three minutes just for him to walk up the creaky stairs. When he finally got up I thought he was going to fall, because He was so wobbly that it looked like he was being pushed over by a ton of wind. I got really scared for a second. My heart was beating so fast that I could feel it in my throat.

I climbed up so he wouldn’t do that again. Jeffy looked around but he wasn’t enjoying it up in the open part, because I think he felt like he was going to fall off. I helped him up to the next story of the jungle gym and that part was closed off with very wired rough material that was red, blue and yellow.  I could still see that he didn’t like it so I just carried him down to the lawn.  

Jeffy started meowing, I was confused what he was doing. When I looked down he was walking towards the door.  I thought he wanted water. I let him in the house and he ran to his water bowl. He drank his water so fast his face was soaking wet. It looked like someone just poured a gallon of water on his face. when he was done he walked over to the couch and sat there for a couple of minutes. I just looked at him and he was sleeping so I just went back to the outside door. When I opened the door he jumped up like a spring that fell off of a mountain bike. Jeffy ran over to the door and wanted to go back out in just the snap of a finger.  

He climbed up the stairs so fast to the porch that it looked like he was one of those marathon runners, because he was going so fast. When he got up there he laid down and rolled around in the sun. He sat up and just sat there in the sun for a while. I’m glad I trusted myself that day because he had a really good time exploring outside. But sadly he died a year later because of cancer but I kind of knew it was time to go for him. He had a nice long good life.  I’m glad he got to explore one last time

 

 

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A Washing Machine Nightmare By Zach

zach1516 0 - Personal Narratives, 6th Grade Writers, Zach , , ,

 The poor little ghost could hear the water churning. He could see the steam, so he knew that the water was very hot. He was not sure that he could survive if he touched the sizzling hot water. When he was about 5 inches above the hot water, he knew that the end was near. But wait, I am getting ahead of myself . . .

Let me start this story by introducing you to Newie. When I was younger, Newie was the most important thing in the world to me. When I was two, my grandmother and I made him. Newie is a ghost, made from a small piece of cloth, a wad of cotton and a few rubber bands.   I named him “Newie” because he was new. At that time, there was one other ghost besides Newie. In total, my grandmother and me made 22 different ghosts, but Newie was always my favorite.

DSCN0008When I was about five, Newie and I were playing in a pillow fort that we had built. Then I got called to lunch, and that is when that madness struck. I finished eating and went into the living room. I saw a pillowcase missing, so I asked my dad about it. He told me that he put it in the laundry and I did not think much of it. I went to try to find Newie to watch TV with me, but I could not find him.

I kept looking, but Newie was nowhere to be found. I became worried when an hour passed with no signs of  Newie. At two hours, I asked my dad for help.  My dad and I were looking in every cranny of the house for him. We did this until bedtime, but we still didn’t find him. I didn’t like sleeping without Newie, but it looked like tonight I would have to.

When I woke up, finding Newie was the first thought I had. Where was he?

Meanwhile, Newie was sitting in a pillowcase in the laundry basket.  Occasionally, he felt a thump on his head. My dad was putting more laundry in the basket. To Newie,  it felt like getting pelted with feathers.

We continued searching on and off all day. That day, I was determined to find Newie. And Newie wanted to find me. But since he couldn’t move or speak, he could not help us find him. Every time I entered a new room, I looked around for Newie.  

At the end of the day, I knew that I would be sleeping without Newie again. I remembered that it was hard to fall asleep the previous night. I asked my mom if she had any ideas of where Newie could be? She said that she had an idea that we could try in the morning, and that is all that I remember from that night.

The next morning, I woke up to my dad scrummaging through the trash. I asked him, “What are you doing?” He said, “Your mother thinks that maybe Newie ended up in the trash, but he isn’t in here.”

We did not do much searching that day because we could not think of any other places to look. I imagined that Newie was getting worried, because he had been in the basket for three days.

That afternoon, I called my mom to tell her that her idea didn’t work. I searched many places over and over, going into every nook and cranny in the house. Still, there was no sign of Newie.

I went to bed that night, wondering if I would ever see Newie again? Newie probably wondered if he would ever see me again.

Newie woke up late to the sound of footsteps leading to the washing machine “stomp stomp stomp”. In the pillowcase, Newie was in a motionless panic. He felt my dad’s hand with every shirt that my dad grabbed out of that basket. He knew that he had a good chance to be found, if my dad checked the pillowcase before putting it into the machine. But then he started to worry that my dad wouldn’t check. If so, Newie was in for a scalding bath that he might not survive.

The pillowcase was picked up and swung back and forth in the air. Newie started to descend into the pit of watery doom. But as the steam started to reach Newie, he suddenly felt a strong hand around his neck. Newie started to panic, but then he was flying through the air at high speeds. He looked up and saw that he was coming straight into my arms. I caught him and it was pure joy from there.

All night I played with Newie. We stayed up watching TV and playing games. Then, when I went to bed, I had the best sleep that I had had in a long time. And from then on, I never left Newie near a pillowcase again.

My Favorite Picture Book By Zsofi

zsofi15 0 - Personal Narratives, 6th Grade Writers, Zsofi , , ,

I was a naive, four-year-old toddler. I usually spent the day in preschool, where I made some of my great friends. My mom was trying to find a new picture book for me. She was in Barnes and Noble; as she entered, she became overwhelmed with the smell of mold and coffee. My mom strolled to the colorful picture book section, all of a sudden in the corner of her eye she spotted a purple book. She investigated the book, then it struck my mom:  Between how the small girl became stronger than all her brothers, and how she ended up beating every single knight from  far away lands in an epic joust, my mom thought this would be a great book to start her “feminist boot camp,” at least that is what I call it.

 

My mom brought me up in the same way in which Rosie the Riveter would have brought up her children. She has always told me that women should and can do whatever any guy can do. Ever since I was a small child, my mom has also taught me to always be paranoid, and hold keys between my fingers whenever I walk outside at night, and, if possible, to have pepper spray on me at all times. After my mom found this book, she headed straight to the down escalator and swept past the notebook section to purchase the book. After she bought the book, she left Barnes and Noble. With the mold smell still lingering, she walked back to the black Highlander my family owned at the time, and drove home.

 

That same night she introduced the book to me.  At first I was as skeptical as a four-year-old could be about a book. But I seemed to enjoy it. I hated fairytales, but for some reason I enjoyed this book, I have no clue why, but I did. The first time my mom read it to me, I was in my bed in my baby blue pajamas with a gray hippopotamus on them (a hand-me-down from my cousin). I also had my favorite stuffed animal that I brought home from my preschool and kept for a good month, and eventually my preschool teacher just let me keep it. I do not know why I liked that stuffed dog so much, maybe because even then I wanted a real dog.

 

The first time my mom read this book to me, I was in bed, extremly sleepy. My eyes almost closed, my mom started to read and I felt enchanted by the tale. When my mom was reading the story to me, I remember lying down in the sheet with the pattern of flowers that  I always thought looked like goats (no one else in my family agreed). Listening to the book made me feel as if I was a tiny goat, lying down in the middle of a flowery meadow. After that, my mom read me this book every night, and I loved it.

 

I feel everything that happens to you when you are a toddler impacts the future you extremely. Even today this is one of my favorite picture books. Even if you are a little bit older, it does not mean you cannot enjoy things for younger kids, and it does not mean that everything you do, watch, or read, has to be something made for toddlers. But it does mean that sometimes it’s good to go back to things you once enjoyed, and what you might still enjoy and not even know it.

Photo taken by Zsofi
Photo taken by Zsofi