Personal Narrative Fiction

Words: 1176
Pages: 5
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I hear the front doorbell beckon at 3am. I groggily look up at the door from my stationary position on the couch. “What the hell? It’s 3am! Who, besides me, is still up! It’s wednesday night!” I barked. I get up, shuffle over, and look out the little window on the top of the door that I am barely able to see out of.
“No one there, huh, must be some kids at a sleepover playing ding-dong ditch. I should get to bed, I have classes tomorrow. Or, I guess today”
*7am the next day* “Crap crap crap! I’m so late! Oh god... I have that paper due!” I yell on the way out the door. “AHH!!!”. I fall over a really heavy package in front of my door.
“Ow… jeez that hurt…”. I look down and see that I scraped my arm on the sidewalk. “This is the LAST thing I …show more content…
I drop the box immediately, scared out of my mind.
“I’m sorry if she scared you master” A wimpy voice mumbles. Why are there two different voices?!?! There isn’t even supposed to be one! The lid of the box starts to open, and I am so scared i’m shaking. Then out pop these two little humanoid things. They each were about three inches tall. The first one had beautiful, long, wavy light blue hair. Her skin was an even paler blue, almost white, and her eyes were amazing. A dark purple with just the right amount of sparkle. Now the other one was NOT like the first one, it had greasy, tagley, black hair. Her skin I think was originally peach, much like mine, but she hadn’t bathed in so long that it was now a light yellow. And her eyes were just black, with no sparkle at all.
“What the hell Dawn! You touched me! I don’t want your smell all over me!” The nasty one yells.
“I’m sorry Olga… I didn’t mean to…” The timid one, Dawn, says. Meanwhile, i’m just standing there, amazed by what is going on right in front of …show more content…
“No of course not! She just passed out! I bet he didn’t tell her we were coming…” Olga says. I groggily sit up in the middle of my kitchen, and start talking to what I hope is in my head.
“So who is the guy you were just talking about?”.
“Oh, h-he is our creator. We just k-know him by the name ‘creator’ he never gave us his real name” Dawn timidly says.
“But we can go find him for you! Or tell you where to find him!” Olga insisted.
“Yes tell me where to find him. I need to speak with him”. Olga climbs the kitchen chair to the table where my laptop was sitting. Then types an address into google maps, The Drowsy Poet.
“LET’S GO! No time to waste! I want you out of my hair ASAP!” I scream darting out the door once again.
It was a short drive to the bookstore, just about 20 short minutes. We go inside and i’m surprised that the place is still open. There was two levels and everything was covered in dust. The place was also very unorganized, piles of books everywhere, barely anything on the shelfs.
“Hello?” I declared from the doorway. “I’m back here! Come back please Joelle!” An old voice beckons from the back room.
“So, how do you know my name? And why did you give me these things?!” I
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