Personal Narrative: The Unknown

1208 Words3 Pages

The Unknown can be a scary place. You fear the dangers that could be lurking ahead. Fed only with fragments of information you can find, your mind's eye imagining a world of terror awaiting you. Something as small and insignificant as a sound out of sight can send your mind into overdrive. The unknown is scary because it dwarfs us with its intimidating infinite size. It could surprise us at any turn of the corner, at any time in our lives. The known is more comforting, however for the very reason that it is known. No surprises, no risks, no danger. It is the safety of being able to have a comfort in our surroundings. Almost everything is unknown to us, that it can greatly outweigh the known. For instance our universe is a vast place of seemingly …show more content…

So the slightest abnormality has the potential to trigger an overwhelming imaginary picture of actual events. My mind, when given enough fuel and a spark, is able to run wild. This one late night in particular, enough fuel was supplied. The fuel being a horror movie. It wasn't a jumpy zombie behind the door movie. The movie left people terrified with ideas. The story was key in setting my mind into an alert state. It imprinted my mind with frightening thoughts. It was enough to keep me awake and provide the fuel for my thirsty imagination. After the movie had finished, it was late, everyone was asleep. Bar me. I couldn't let one eye wander, not even for a blink. My eyes were fixed on the door, a slither of space parting the doorframe from the open door. Only blackness could be seen beyond the confides of my …show more content…

I had to face up to the situation at hand, frozen stiff in thought I tried to see into the darkness from a different angle. From every angle that I tried the slither of space wasn't enough to find a clear sight of what was out there. More noises from the unknown creaked and clacked, the intruder was most likely looming in the house waiting to pounce. To confront the unknown, I needed to feel safe. I gracefully glided over the junk scattered on my floor without making a sound. I reached for my cricket bat, gripped the shaft in my hands as it poke out of the closet. I drew the cricket bat from the closet, as Arthur drew Excalibur from the

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