Personal Narrative-Black Girl

411 Words2 Pages
I wake up in a closet. I don’t remember how I got here. The last thing I remember is being at Claire Brandon’s sleepover.

It was pitch black; I put my hand on the ice-cold, bare walls, trying to look for a light switch. Found it. I stood up to turn it on, but quickly bumped my head on the shallow ceiling. As soon as the lights were turned on, I noticed a door on my right; I tried desperately to open it, but it was locked.
Full of curiosity, I observed the rest of the room. On the wall hung a picture of a very disturbing portrait. The woman in the picture had eyes as red as rubies, and they were staring right at me, following my frightened movement, as if she were monitoring me. The room was very limited and cramped, not even tall enough for
…show more content…
The story on the front page read, “Girl missing for six months now.” I read the story. The girl’s name was Sarah Harper. My name is Sarah Harper! That can’t be, I thought to myself. I started having paranoid thoughts and frantically scanning the pages for the date. Finally, I found it; the publication date stated December thirteenth. This doesn’t make any sense. I was at the sleepover on April sixth. What day is today? How long have I been gone? Where have I been all this time?
I tried telling myself this was nothing more than a bad dream and pinched myself, hopelessly trying to wake up. I didn’t wake. All I felt was the pain on my arm, the fresh marks of my fingernails that had been dug into my skin. I felt a sudden pain in my chest, and fear flooded my mind. I could taste the salty drops running down my cheeks, drowning my eyes.
Abruptly, I noticed a pink hood, a black mask, and a crossbow lying on the floor next to me. I could’ve sworn they had not been there a second earlier.
Then, I heard a voice. It sounded like a young girl, probably in her teens just like me. “Hello? Is someone there?” she asked.
I looked around; there was no one else in this tiny claustrophobic closet. Suddenly, right there and then, the door burst open. “Let the hunting

More about Personal Narrative-Black Girl

Open Document