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Personal Narrative: Observation In Latin America Essay

It’s Monday, December 9th. Today just seems unusual, like something big is going to happen! I wonder what it will be for a split second, then go back to studying for the Latin America quiz we have tomorrow. Mr. Fielder announces what questions we should highlight on our worksheets. I watch him go back to his desk. I look up and out the window, I see the glistening shimmer of fresh snow dancing in the sky. I cherish every second of it, wishing the time would go by slower. As time creeps closer to 12:20 p. m. , the more I shudder at the thought of having to go to room 224.

I finish making my flashcards, using splendid handwriting, and proper spelling and grammar. The clock whispers 12:18 p. m. in my ear, I turn white as a ghost. “Good work today class! Don’t forget that we have a Latin America quiz tomorrow! ” hollers Mr Fielder. I gradually assemble my things and sluggishly stroll to the door, I look back at my desk to make sure I didn’t forget anything. I didn’t. I feel like I let myself down, and yet, relieved that I don’t have to shuffle back to my desk. “Next stop locker,” I whisper to myself. Reluctantly, I opened my locker, and take a long, slow slip, of ice cold water.

I start to make my way to room 224. I walk over to the stairs, they go straight down, and are only standing because of the three wooden posts at the bottom of each floor. I gently put the tip of my toe on the first step, and all three floors of stairs shiver and shake at the thought of my weight. Immediately I take back my foot and put it back on the solid ground. “Now I have to take the elevator,” I complain with a sigh Yup that’s right! I said elevator, but this is not your traditional elevator. The elevator is 13 steps east of the stairs, no matter what size your foot is it’s always 13 steps, always.

I tread over to the elevator and press the only button there, the down button. The elevator only goes down, can only fit one person, and if you’re lucky, maybe a backpack! The elevator door dings open and spits a massive dust cloud at me, telling me to go back. I stumble into the elevator, and grasp my stuff for dear life. The interior of the elevator is painted black, so you can’t see the blood splatters. There is only one light that dangles by a fragile piece of string. It’s constantly swaying, and never stops flickering.

You don’t want to be in the elevator when the lights go out completely, you never know what kind of crawly things come, out to bite you! I reach my destination. The elevator tells me we settled, on the last floor, with a ding, and a screech, elevator doors open. I step out unsteadily. There is only one hallway in the basement, that leads to the only classroom and back to the elevator, or stairs. The classroom is dead ahead. Mr. Fiedler must have let us out really early. I reach the door, it has the body of an oval, with two black windows, but you can’t see anything through them.

The door is scorching hot with a massive layer of ash. Scarcely attached to the door, is a charred Christmas wreath buried behind dozens of murky chains. Cautiously, I grab my plastic flimsy ruler. Snap! I break the ruler on my leg, holding my fingers as distant as I possibly can, I swiftly open the door, with only half, of the injured ruler melted. I tip-toe into Mrs. Berntson room, silently I put my stuff down, I dislocate a chair from it’s hiding spot, and softly drop the chair off at my desk. I am either really early, or I missed her morning feeding.

The classroom is mysterious, you never know what you will find, but it is never the satisfying mysterious. There are spiderwebs everywhere, and the smallest one is 6ft wide and 6ft tall. The lights are dim and hardly have enough strength to even flicker. We sit in single file in four rows, boy, girl, boy, girl, with Mrs. Berntson’s desk is right in front of us. There are dozens of peculiar, enormous cabinets. There is an extra hallway, with chunky metal bars guarding it. There is a monstrous lock, with a teeny tiny keyhole attached to one of the bars.

Mrs. Berntson goes in there all the time! A lot of sheeks come from behind those bars. I however have never been behind the bars. Mrs. Berntson is 7’0ft tall, with hair that sticks up like lightning. She is thinner than a twig, and wears the same long dress every day. There was white lace around her neckline, at the bottom of her sleeves, at the very bottom of the dress. At one point in time the lace was a beautiful bright white, but now is blood red. The bottom of the dress leaves blood stains wherever she wonders. She has pitch black eyes, vampire fangs, with white as snow colored teeth.

Staring through the window’s of the bars, I hear multiple different sheirks. “Where are all the students? ” I slurred trying not to panic. The whole class managed to get themselves into prison! “How did they do that? ” blurted out . Right as I announced that, I immediately covered my mouth with my hand, wishing I could take it back. I saw an abrupt shift in a towering shadow. Mrs. Bertson overheard me. I gotta hide! Feeling pleased that I choose to wear black pants and a black band tee I might be able to blend in with the wall. Darn! My skin won’t blend nor will my hair! Where to hide, where to hide! ” I cried softly I headed over the book shelf.

Since all her books were black, (like everything else in the room) I thought that maybe I could grab a pile of books, go lay down in a corner, (if I could find one without bugs, torture devices, and blood on the floor) and drape the open books over my skin. Ridiculous, I know, but it was an excellent idea at the moment. “Let’s do this! ” I smirked, giving the idea hope, knowing it wouldn’t work out in the end. The clunk clunk chunk of her heels are getting louder and faster. I snatch the entire book shelf full of novels.

Trying to get a grip on the last 4 books. I reach out and grab the first book, the second, then the third book. About to lose balance, unexpectedly jolt side to side catching the books before they plunge to the ground. Bit by bit the books start to settle. I reach for the last book on the shelf. My hand finally makes it to the book. I feel spine of the novel, and all the details that come with it. I capture the book, with full force. But it won’t budge. I try again. It even twitch. Abusing my time and wondering how big that prison is. I pull again. Nothing.

My arm gives out, and there goes all my books! “No, no, no! ” I grumbled softly I hear the footsteps getting louder and faster. But they are not yet close to the door. “How big is that prison? ” I murmured I glance back at the book. Holding on to it firmly, I turn the book onto its side. And pull. Click. The book shelf turns around, unlocking a secret room. I drop my jaw, stunned, at the discovery. I hear the squeak of the bar door whaling open with a crash. “Oh no! ” I yelled. Without hesitation I Dash into, what I think is a little room. Once I hop into the room, the book shelf turns back around.

And all the books that laid on the floor, magically floated back up onto the bookshelf. Except one. One book has settled down by my feet, making a home in the fuzzy carpet blood red carpet. Picking it up, I realize, that it was the novel that, was stuck in the shelf. I look around for a light switch, being careful where I put my hands and my feet. I finally find a light switch stashed in the back of the room next to long hallway. With a flip of the switch and a swoosh, a chandelier gives the room light. I look up at the light, and realize the room was glowing by candle light.

I glance around the room taking in everything I possibly can, trying not to pass out with excitement and fear. There is a long hallway to my right with candles lighting the way. And a spiral staircase to my left with candle’s shining at the top. I overhear the clash of chairs, and tables plunging to the ground. A roar of anger blows up the classroom, that is now on the other side of the bookcase. I wonder around the room questioning which path to take. I pace over to the introduction of each path. As I look down the long hallway, I notice a cry for help coming behind one of the doors.

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