Personal Narrative: Othello

From a young age, I fought in battles, armed combat was the only thing I ever knew. I was as tough as stone, and no temptress could ever penetrate my tough exterior. Until I first laid eyes on the darling Desdemona. Whether it was fate, or pure luck, as I was visiting Brabantio, she revealed herself from behind the corner. Her flowing brown locks perfectly cascaded down her sides, her skin was as unblemished and white as porcelain, and her lips, Oh Lord! Her lips were as red as apples and smooth as silk. I could already imagine her in a long-flowing ivory gown walking down the ais- What are you saying Othello? She would never marry you, you are simply dirt beneath her feet and she is as pure as snow. Sometimes I wish I could shed my skin to reveal a creamy white complexion, maybe then I would be acknowledged as a person rather than a human shield. The society they created was overarching, but only had one requirement, uniformity. After feeling like an outsider my entire life, I was used to not understanding the language, the muffled giggles and stares I would encounter.In fact, I had never felt the pain of being a pariah until I knew the glory and beauty which awaited me on the other side of the barrier.

This man will have the most beautiful thing at his beck and call, yet he’ll never appreciate it. I would give all my worldly possessions to be able to caress her cheek and lay a soft kiss on her lips. I feel foolish to allow myself to even dream of a world where I hold her in my arms. I could give her anything her little heart desired, I would bend over backwards and any which way to make sure her happiness was everlasting. No one, and I mean no one could love her half as much as I