Personal Narrative: My Car

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I drove into the city, where the buildings were tall and the people were supposed to be impatient and filthy. What I saw was far more grotesque than any city I'd been to. As I drove into the city I saw terrible things, twisted fragments of metal sticking out of the ground, trash and human waste buildup, and the sky covered with pollution. The smell of rot was putrid. I had to roll my windows up due to the horrid stench. As I drove further, the city only got worse. The buildings were teetering precariously on small slivers of metal, and it looked as if you could blow them over with a single breath. I stopped abruptly when I noticed a figure moving ahead of my car. He appeared to be limping, dragging a leg behind him. His face was hidden by shadow, and his hunched form limped its way over to my car.
It lifted its face and grunted indistinguishable words. I swerved the car as far away as I could. As a result of the radiation, his face and body were warped to the point where he looked more like a monster than a man. I stepped on the accelerator as hard as I could. Swerving …show more content…
Weaving in and out of the shrapnel, I sprinted, but one piece of twisted metal jutted out and I cut my leg on it badly. I stumbled and cried but I never once stopped until I was inside of the abandoned tower. I collapsed onto the filthy floor. I knew I shouldn't've stopped, but I needed to catch my breath. It was vital to find something to temporarily stop the blood that was flowing freely from my cut. I looked around for something, anything. There were glass shards strewn across the floor and…. blood. Fresh blood was plastered to the walls. White with fright, I quickly grabbed a grubby rag and used it as a tourniquet, even though I knew it wouldn’t last long, it was something. All at once a vile stench, one worse than the radioactive redolence of feces outside, filled my nose, and I followed the stench of rot to a

Personal Narrative: My Car

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Personal Narrative: My First Car

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Personal Narrative: My Car Ride

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Personal Narrative: The Fear Of My Car

Growing up, I always dreamed of having my own car. The speed, the fact that I could listen to whatever music I want, and the ability to go wherever I wanted thrilled me. When I finally recieved my car on my 16th birthday, I felt invincible. While I thought that getting the car would lead to nothing but excitement, the fear of getting into an accident, losing my car, and the overall responsibility of the gift made me realize that the car was not just a cool present for me to enjoy, but a liability…

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Antonia Okafor Concealed Carry Analysis

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