Personal Narrative

A voice in the past
David grasped for air as he struggled to get the blanket off him. Sweating and panting he sat up. His chest constantly inflating and deflating. David clumsily reached for his medication on the bed-side table. Once the medication was swallowed, David’s body eased slowly into relaxation and his breathing flowed. His vision was cloudy but he could deduce it was early morning. David was tempted to lie down but he knew he would fall asleep and drown in his nightmares again.
He stumbled his way to the kitchen light and found an unsurprising sight. Dust coated the un-used section of the table, half eaten leftovers that cockroaches appreciated and the smell of a clogged toilet but he didn’t care about any of those things. David …show more content…
Part of the setting sun hid beneath the horizon and gave an orangey glow that reflected of Clementine’s auburn hair. Blue crystal-clear waves crashing along the beach always feel like you’re on a tropical beach. Remotely, I could hear the grunt of an engine. I glanced into the rear view mirror to see a black sports car closing on me. Thick smoke was regurgitated from the car that blocked any vision behind it. In the matter of seconds, the car was tailing mine as it was a one lane road. A pothole shuddered our car and I had to dramatically slow down. Not expecting a change in speed, it collided with the back of our car. Our vehicle propelled off the road onto the sandy banks. My heart stopped. Surroundings blurred. Broken glass and debris leaving a …show more content…
David leaned against the doorframe, grunting at the sight of the man and the overwhelm of the cologne. Ignoring the remark, Dr Henderson spoke with a calm and professional tone,
“Hello David, my name is Dr Henderson but call me Fergus. I have been sent here from the hospital in regards to your symptoms. May we talk inside?”
Surprised, David reluctantly accepted the doctor’s request and proceeded to the living room. “On my badge it says I’m a doctor but I specialize in the area of counselling,” said Dr Henderson while going through his papers. “From my reports, I have read you are mentally ill from that accident? If you don’t mind, I would be interested if you told your side of the story.”
There was silence as David didn’t want to cooperate. “I can do only so much to help you but it can only be you who chooses to overcome your fears.”
David hesitantly agreed to the counselor. He replayed the last few moment he spent with Clementine, being too emotional, he starting crying.
“Hey, hey,” Fergus voice was gentle towards David, “I know you blame yourself your loss. I want to help you or your symptoms will start getting worse. You will drown in your self-pity and hatred if you keep going down this

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