Narrative Fiction of a High School Scenario

Narrative Fiction of a High School Scenario. Student’s Name: Student’s Number: Institution: The morning heat was beginning to turn the tarmac sticky. Josie loved Connecticut. She obviously did not love it because that was the city that housed the St. John’s Group of Schools, the institution we attended for our 9th grade. She loved the place because of the ever twisting streets and pathways and the surprisingly narrow lanes in the back of the alleys where three cars, two moving in the same direction, was all that it took for grid lock. She admired how the gradually heated upon the sun vehicle stages did not have a straight line of symmetry between them like the other stages, as well as how they huddled close to each other throughout the other side of town. She loved the silence that always occupied the air with salt and awkwardness accompanied by the strange stillness of the light and the breaking loads of wind flowing through the school bus. Above all that, Josie, my best friend, loved the way occurrences in Connecticut took just as long as it took, and the sense that time in the city was not measured in days, hours, minutes and seconds, but by the lazy passing of day and night. A quick and fierce crunching suddenly hit my ears from behind, accelerating the already rampant pounding of my heart. “Hey, beautiful”, a familiar and saddening voice filled my tired ears. “Heyy”, a hesitant voice past my mouth and I wished I could go after the over speeding words, just to return them back where they are supposed to be, in my mind, and stay silent. It was Brian, my boyfriend. “Are you ready for the big day?” He muttered and the dissatisfaction was yelling aloud in his words. I was not a negative person as my Catholic family had raised me the right way but at this point in my life, Brian had turned me wild, inconsiderate and ignorant. We were headed to a neighboring school for an English contest and I had agreed to going there not because I was good in English but because Josie saw it for that I break away from the monotony of staying back at my room, sleeping with curtains to the ever dark room freed to feed my intense thoughts. “Can’t wait”, I answered and went back to staring and admiring how the passing trees and houses as well as the breeze struggled so hard to comfort me, but to no avail. “You know you would be more beautiful and attractive if you just became yourself and not Madonna, right? Those were the exact and the first words to ever come out of Brian’s perfect lips, in 1985. But it was the end of the year now and my favorite artist was the buzz. Literally, that was the first boy in my sixteen years to ever think that I was beautiful. He then grinned, like he always does and a satisfying chill of happiness would run down my spine, robustly and automatically sending off a cloud of fear and anxiety in my heart. “What is your name?” I had always wished that a boy would walk up to me and utter the four words as they made my heart skip a beat just by hearing them. “Christina”, the name left my lips after a long moment of burying my head inside my long, curly and unmade hair. Suddenly, a hand reached below my chin, escalating its strength, raising and revealing my head to face him. My dark brown eyes ...