Personal Narrative Fiction

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I awoke coughing spitting out the remnants of blood that has filled my mouth. As I coughed I saw something. I... saw something. I could see for the first time. I laughed at the weird situation. Am I in heaven? I found myself wondering. I watched myself sit up, and I pulled up the front of my shirt just far enough to see the spot where the tree had impaled me.
It was gone. The wound although smeared with the same stuff, which I thought was blood, was completely healed. It was scared however, clearly able to see the difference in the color tone of flesh. I laughed. So I did die. I laughed harder.
I eventually calmed down and sat there wondering what I should do with my new sense of vision. My breathing hitched as I thought …show more content…

I was able to feel each cold strand as they tickled my fingers. I must be a ghost! What else could I be. I thought to myself before standing back up. It was odd seeing myself do everything. I couldn't imagine people doing this everyday.
I walked away from where I had died and began walking towards a new life. One that where I was the one in charge. Where I could do and be who I wanted. It was my time to shine.
I eventually came upon a small street covered in stores, and spotted a clothing store. Noticing my ruined ones I decided before I did anything I needed to look the part. Slightly stumbling I walked over to the store. A small grin was on my face as I saw myself grab the handle on the door. The color reminded me of a shiny, lighter, somehow colder black. It was odd seeing colors for the first time. I had no clue what they were called. I've heard their names, but which one belonged to which? I didn't …show more content…

My eyes drifted along each little weapon. I need something sharp, but not shiny. I want to blend in. So large blades are a no go... My thoughts a whirlwind of objects I could use, but only a few caught my attention. My fingers twitched as I grabbed the objects I needed. It's not like the guy that worked here needed them, and it's not like a ghost like myself can get caught.
With the objects in hand I slipped them into my pockets and walked to the wall. If I am a ghost I should be able to walk through this. 1.. 2... 3... I walked straight into the wall, and hit it hard. Knowing that the idea didn't work I turned and decided I'd just have to walk out as quietly as possible. With as much confidence as I could I walked out of the room and into the dark hallway that connected to the store. As I walked I felt as if I was on air. Oddly enough when I stopped walking I stood outside of the store, standing in the shadow of an old tree. Maybe I am a

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