Personal Narrative: My Family Is Dead

There I was, walking along the road that lead to whatever next town it let to. It was a cold, windy sunny day with no cars around and I was also alone, which to me was a perfect day and I was also terrified.

I should probably tell you that most of my family is dead. It all started when I was just five years old. We had lived in California were I was born and had asked my parents if they could take my brother and I to the park, since it was a hot sunny day. Soon enough we were heading down the highway to our destination. I was in the back seat playing, or rather trying to play a ukulele that my mom got me a year ago. My parents thought it was a great idea to entertain me with music, although I was five and could have broken it.

My brother,
Blake was next to me who was seven years older than me and was listening to music with his headphones and looking out the window. I could see his reflection, he had light brown hair with blonde streaks in it and he had dark brown eyes like my dad did. He was stairing at the cars passing by until he caught me staring at him, he turned around to look at me and gave me a smile. I smiled back at him, then he returned to look out the window.

I turn over to look at my window, I could barley see my reflection. I had dark brown wavy hair that went just past my shoulders and I had dark blue eyes like my mom did.

I was about to ask my mom if we were there yet when all of a sudden, I was thrown against the door.
Then the car starting to spin and I was pretty sure we hit something hard because all the windows broke and glass fell on top of me. Of course I thought it was over, that was until something hit my door and I passed out due to the pain.

But one thing was clear to me, someone did it on purpose and the person who killed my parents were after me now.

You see the person who killed my parents wasn't finished just yet. When I turned ten, my brother was kidnapped. I didn't want to get into detail because afterwards he ended up dead, although me and my foster family were searching for him, only to find him dead in the parking lot.

I wouldn't stop crying, that was until my foster mom, Evenly told me she would do anything to find the person who killed Blake and would pay for it. Of course we never found him and at the age of fifeteen my foster parents died a fire that had occured in our house.

I was the only one to get it out, stairing at the building that was no longer my home, The roof falling apart, the front door falling off, then I got the message. I was next, a girl who never did anything wrong and was torn apart by her frighting past. The fire trucks hadn't gotten here yet. It was midnight and I was standing on someone's lawn across from my home. Watching the house fall apart. Sure enough I turned and
ran.

Running so fast I didn't even look back once. I shed no tears, for I didn't have time because I was to scared for anything else. All I knew was that it was after me now.

It wasn't until I heard cars uphead. I knew there was a town, a couple of minutes and I'd get there. My hair blowing in front of my face, I hadn't had time to cut it since it was down half my back and I was on the run from whoever wanted to kill me.

It was freezing cold and all I had to wear were some ripped up black skinny jeans, with a white crop top shirt and a red and black fannel shirt as a sweater with my red worn out converse. I had a dark blue worn out backpack thrown over my left shoulder and I was running out of supplies.

Usually I dont recommened stealing, but in my case I really didn't have a choice. I was running out of food and needed new clothes. The last trip, I ended up stealing an old mans wallet with at least four-hundred dollars in it. I then got some food, which wasn't much. All I got were some granola bars, tuna and a couple of waterbottles. I really hadn't gotton much because like I said, a person was after me, trying to kill me.