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Narrative Essay

             I wake up early to early for my taste I lie in my bed desperately trying to fall back into the depths of my slumber. The sunshine sneaks past my curtains and finds its way into my eyes. I roll over trying to avoid the ever pierce light coming through my window. It finds a way to follow me no matter where I roll, how I cocked my head or how many pillows I put on my head. Finally I give in to the suns ever persisting nag for my to get up and start my mourning. .
             I climb down the steep ladder from the sweltering loft above. To find my sisters already up and finishing off the little breakfast we have. As slowly drag my numbed body toward the shower. I turn the shower on as slow weak blast of water spurt out of the showerhead. Leaving my clothes laying in a heap on the floor I jump into the small concrete cell my grandfather calls a shower. As the water hits me I curse at my sister for using all the hot water a few hours before.
             I walk out wearing nothing but my drenched boxers and a towel around my neck catching the ever-persisting drops coming from my head. I sit down at the cluttered table. I scan my surrounding searching for my next meal. I spot the mini-wheats; I snatch them like a greedy rat guarding his prized cheese. I pour the box in to my bowl only to find the last two mini-wheats. I pass a heated glance towards my sisters who were contentedly putting sunscreen on their already burned bodies. .
             After I was finished I grabbed my partially wet swimsuit. I slip the cold suit. And run to the door to catch up to my sisters. I slam the door behind me and I hear the drone of my dad tell me not to slam the door. I am sprint through the blueberry patches trying to avoid the blueberries that leave my feet with stains of blue. I get to the cliffs; the wind is blowing stronger here. I can taste the salt in the air from the ocean spray. I see my sister and Mom conjugated in the middle of our desolate beach.

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