Personal Narrative: Dogface

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I’ve been told to write this report for my sister’s therapist. Just as a reference or my perspective, I guess. I’m Dylan Kinley. My sister is the town-famous Carter Kinley, more notoriously known as “Dogface”. She rarely uses her real name since she’s so used to the name “Dogface”. The nickname has stuck ever since the incident happened sixteen years ago. I was with Dogface when it happened. She was seven back then and I was only five. We were visiting one of Mom’s friends during the summer, an odd couple who lived in the practically deserted area of Roxbury, Connecticut.
It all started with a dog. Yeah, I know, seems kinda stupid. A big fluffy dog ran up to my sister. And knowing her, she would, of course, pet it. I didn’t see what happened,
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She looked a lot happier than she did before. There were stitches on her face, which wasn’t too bad, considering the bloody incident. The summer went by quickly. We stayed out of town for a while and didn’t return until school started. Dogface was in second grade at the time. She was very thrilled about going to school and wouldn’t lend me any of her pens, as much as I had pleaded.

It’s funny. Dogface’s given name is Carter yet she only uses it in legal or formal situations. She insists that acquaintances, friends, even family call her Dogface. It’s horrible. It’s almost as if she uses it to put herself down. Like a constant reminder that she’s not physically perfect, and never will be.
Dogface has talked about getting facial surgery before, but the expensive and commitment was too much for her. She never went through with it. Sometimes she still talks about it and bitterly laughs at her own expense. Sometimes she’s just a well of self-pity.
It’s really not healthy. I know that. But it’s so difficult to tell her things that she doesn’t believe. It’s easy to understand. You can’t exactly call her beautiful. She wouldn’t accept that. But Dogface truly is kinder than
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