Personal Narrative-Ponte Gobbo, Italy

Ponte Gobbo, Italy

I was going about my mundane daily routine. Cross the bridge to get to school and cross the bridge to come home. Everything was as orderly and as natural as usual. I started to cross the bridge on my way home from school. As I was crossing it I heard a peculiar noise. I looked beneath me and I saw many immense fractures in the bridge. I looked around, but not a soul was in sight. I was all alone, on a bridge that was seconds away from crumbling into a million tiny pieces. I would soon be washed away by the rushing water beneath me, never to be heard of again. If I wished to survive I had to think on my feet.

I realized that I was not even half way across the bridge, so attempting to sprint to the other side
was way out of reach. All of a sudden the cracking and crumbling stopped. I looked around again. No one was in the vicinity. I took a step thinking that all of the previous events were just apart of my pure imagination. I had hope that I would survive the predicament that I had somehow gotten myself into. I would go home to my house and watch a movie as if nothing had happened. But as the sole of my foot touched the cement of the bridge, a large chunk of the bridge fell off of the remaining part. I fell through the gap. I was washed away by the river beneath the bridge.