Personal Narrative: My Father's Identity

I learned of my father’s identity for the first time after I heard my mother, Penelope--queen of Ithaca--, speaking to one of our servants about him. Later that night, I had asked her about him--one of many times though--but this time… something was different. With tears in her eyes, she finally told me about my father. “He left to fight the war against the brutes of Troy. He said that he would not be gone long, that because the gods were on our side, that they would bring us victory. That was twenty years ago, the war was over seven years ago, and still no word from your father, his men, or the gods.” After she told me this, she pulled the soft, silky sheets up tightly around my neck, put her finger on my nose, and whispered quietly, “There

That night I dreamed of him, but it wasn’t like I thought that it would be. I awoke in my dream to the sight of a glittering cave ceiling above, the massive stalactites majestically hanging, almost touching the matching stalagmites rising from sparkling floor. The diamonds and rubies embedded in the walls twinkling in rays of the sun cutting through the magnificent white oak trees whose branches were like fingers covering the entrance to the cave. I leisurely sat up, turning my head from side to side, and noticed movement down one of the tunnels off to my left. I crawled gradually to my feet, and snuck down the tunnel, careful not to make a sound. I crept to the edge of the tunnel and stopped just before it opened up into a magnificent cavern. I glanced above me, noticing the sparkling diamond chandeliers, flourishing with light from an unknown source. And in the center of the room ly a shining golden table, covered in