Personal Narrative: The Marionette

Words: 901
Pages: 4

The Marionette The wind blowing through my hair as sweat dripped down my forehead. The uneven balance of small pebbles on the bottom of my shoes with the smell of fresh air seeping into my lungs as if the mountains and clouds were offering it. The sight of being on top of everything as if my title was “The Ruler” and the resonance of winds singing in harmony. I take a deep gust of air into my lungs, POOHHH, then slowly I let the wild stampede run up my throat. ARHHHH. With no one around, I scream with all my force breaking the harmony of the winds and scaring the clouds away. SQUEAK. Suddenly snapping back to reality to the sound of talking shoes, I realize I’m not on top of a mountain anymore but rather in a classroom that’s a hoarder’s nirvana. In spite of that, the feeling of the scream dwelling inside me was a delicate flower. I’m a high-school sophomore and for three years I’ve been saving up my “GET OUT OF JAIL FREE” to liberate my lungs yet again. …show more content…
It wasn’t even a couple of days ago I found out the writing was based on a time I learned a lesson, but I knew when we started, I was going to write at the speed of light. While the teacher gave an example of the essay and brainstormed ideas, I swam in the pool of my thoughts and attempted to finish the unbegun plot diagram. My pencil float on top of the paper ready to dance, yet I remain in my thoughts searching for an idea like a lost puppy looking for a home. Although time starts to run, I catch a glimpse of my existence