Narrative Writing Examples

Brandon’s Narrative

It was a light filled afternoon; the light’s reflection from the window blinded my eyes, so I squinted one of my eyes just to see the teacher artistically write on the white board with a red marker. “What number of people live in the U.S.A.?” the teacher asked us to answer. Hands went flying in the air waving back and forth like a swing trying to get her attention.

“The answer is about two billion people living in the U.S.A,” the teacher said while going to get her math book to check our homework. Then Tyler, a blonde headed kid who was short, raised his hand. He was one of one of the class clowns in the eighth grade, and he smiled like he was going to tell a hilarious joke and said, “What about the people with nubs and hands that don’t work or people in wheelchairs, do they count as half?” All of the student’s laughter echoed in the classroom, bouncing around my head, laughing at my imperfection.

I hid my right arm under the desk. The black phone rang for me to go to my dentist appointment, and as the kid beside of me was waiting to high five me goodbye, I looked disgusted to him and said, “Why should I high five you? You all think I’m half of a person!” All of my classmates looked guilty and looked at the floor ashamed, and feeling angry and upset, I slammed the door so hard that it almost echoed down the locker filled halls. The next day all the classmates said they’re sorry about the other day, and one of them said that they didn’t mean that and they love me, but I don’t know if I should believe him or not because I’ve been treated differently around other people as long as I can remember.

I already had known they treat me different because when I’m talking to anyone they don’t make eye contact with me; instead they focus on my hand, trying to figure out how am I speaking their language so commonly as water flows through a river with a broken arm like mine. Am I just a handicapped toy buried at the cold, dark bottom by new perfect ones that don’t make mistakes? My nonstop journey is trying to break through the top being somebody that can make a difference in the world, but alas they smack me down, and while I was falling off the endless mountain of toys, I asked myself, will this ever end?

In the bed, where I do most of my thinking, I lay there motionless, pondering and let all of my thoughts take over my mind. “Why am I like this?” “What’s my purpose in life?” and “Why does everyone treat me like a handicapped person?” “I’m human too, why me, why?” These thoughts and more have haunted my mind, never leaving my brain. I am a prisoner inside of my own mind.

Karisa’s Narrative

I remember when I first saw her. She was holding the hand of her mother. She was putting one foot in front of the other, and then she made a little hop. Right foot in front and hop. Left foot in front and hop. I suppose it was skipping. She was rambling a sort of melody. Her mouth was pouring out words like a faucet would water. Her mother was being dragged along with her all the way to the door. My brother Nick and I sat there mesmerized; our eyes were glued onto her as if she were some magical creature we had never seen before. Nick stretched his arms out as far as they would go and groaned. He blinked his eyes. Then he rubbed the sand that had cemented his eyes together that night while he was sleeping. I wiped the salty droplets from my eyes while my mom unbuckled me slowly. Her eyes were red and puffy. She didn’t hide the drenched tissue in her pocket very well.

The day before, I had a visit with my dad. The experience was so odd. Tiny boxes on every corner of the walls. And these one eyed goggles seemed to poke out of the tiny boxes to spy on our every move. That day spent with him had at first seemed better than any amount of chocolate. But that moment was soon crushed with the reality of reason. My dad was going away for a very long time.

I snapped back into the world. Tears came rushing out as if clouds had taken the place of my eyes. My mom didn’t notice. She wasn’t all there I guess. Nick was waiting with the teacher. My mom and I battled to get me inside. She opened the door to Child Time, and I cried like a baby, as if it were the end of the world. The teacher grabbed me. While she was holding me still, I watched as my mom walked, got in the car, and drove away.

That day I sat there alone at a table for what seemed like forever thinking about if my dad would ever be back. In the middle of thinking, the magical creature I had seen skipping that morning walked up to me. She just stood there and smiled. I forced a smile back. She had seen right through it. Her facial expression changed and was then replaced with a pitiful puppy dog look, a look of concern perhaps. She seemed to shake it off fast though, and asked me my name.

“Karisa,” I whispered softly.She repeated it twice, nodded her head. Then she said, “My name’s Jasmine, Jasmine

Lajara.”

My eyes stayed in her direction for the longest time. I admired the bright light that shone from her mouth, the peachy glow that her cheeks made, and the large gleaming stars that stared back into my soul. She twirled around like a ballerina and darted off like one would in a race with challenging opponents; She came back just as fast as she had gone. She was holding markers in one hand and paper in the other.

“You wanna color?” She asked gently

She had placed the paper in my hand before I could even reply and sat right beside me. She placed the markers between us and began to draw. She made this weird tune come out of her mouth, yet she didn’t actually open her mouth. I looked at her with my eyes wide and my ears open, listening to her. I tried the tune out myself but the feeling made me jump. I swallowed the horrible sound I had produced back inside me. I looked at my paper. I had no clue what to draw. I watched as Jasmine used all the markers. She seemed busy.

She suddenly threw down her marker, and screamed “WA-La!”

I just glared at her with one eyebrow pointing up.“I’m done,” she proclaimed proudly.I smiled, but this time I smiled a real smile.

“Close your eyes”I closed them but then tried to open them just enough to

catch a glimpse.“Hey, no peeking!”I then shut my eyes tightly, bringing darkness to them.“Open’ em” The light came in. What she was holding soon came into

focus. She had held up a picture to show me. I stared at it and smiled. It had two stick girls and a heart in the middle with the letters BFFs on the side. The B was backwards though. She grabbed me and wrapped her arms around me tightly, and whispered.

“You’re my best friend.”