The Monster-Personal Narrative

The time had come for the darkness to take her away, as the wisps of glory that she had once known faded in a single flash of memories. The blade that was struck through forcibly into her abdomen was only a small cutting knife but, it was enough to inflict the pain only the past would know. Her skin would soon grow cold and pale because, the blood spilling from the multiple stab wounds was enough halt her heart from ever pumping again. I was only one room over, hunching and curling under the blankets in the crib as nothing ever happened. I was unaware of the atrocious monster that invaded my house and ruined whatever I had left in the way of a family. This fifteen years ago. By the time I was eight I knew the whole story, from my grandmother who sat around sewing and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my lunch before I went to daycare. She had told me how the killer was never known, seen, or heard, but that his presence will live in infamy, no matter how hard we tried to forget the past. The past consisted of commotion, forcing the paramedics to move like flames across a burning sheet, discombobulation as they reached her corpse. She had gone cold because phantoms couldn’t resist playing tricks with someone’s life in the balance. She was
She sat around indulging herself in cigarette after cigarette, even knowing the consequences that would soon follow. Lung diseases threatened her life and a belt was forcibly tied around her lungs as nicotine filled half of the air that she breathed during every breath. What’s the point of existence with an incurable disease known as depression? She tossed her happiness into an endless pit almost giving up in the process, but, she realized that she had another chance. Two in-fact, not knowing that grief would overtake the emotions that had once existed in happiness. Body bags and stretchers still fill her emotions to this day as she lays restless in her