Narrative Essay

"Good morning class!" Mr. Finnley said as he wrote his name messily on the black board. He turned to witness one student lying back in his chair, with his feet on the desk reading the bible. "Mr. Bugejia!" the teacher boomed. "Get your feet off the desk"! With that he gave him a hard, precise slap on the face. "This isn't bible study, it is math class!" he scolded him as he snatched the book and slammed it on the table.

The teacher turned to the next student. Nick Navrotski was a goofy looking boy with short half dyed hair, who dreaded math class. Instead of listening to the lesson, he mindlessly doodled in his notebook with a red pen. "What do you think you're doing? What is this? Writing in red ink? You better smarten up, or you're going to fail yet another test!" Mr. Finnley yelled. Just then the bell rang and Nick's stomach turned inside out Ð'- the dreaded math test was just twenty two hours away.

Back at home in his cozy well lit basement, Nick sat down and prepared to study. Soft music was coming from the television upstairs as he tried hard to concentrate on his studying. Minutes pass, but it seemed like hours. Nick falls onto the couch for a quick nap..

He is awakened soon afterwards by a loud shriek. The basement now felt cold and damp. Darkness surrounded the area, and there was a deathly stench in the air. Speckles of sweat dripped from his face onto the table in front of him, where he noticed a message written in a blood red ink "You're Dead" on what used to be his math book. His heart started to pound and he began breathing rapidly, as he tried to understand what was going on. Just then he heard a growl, he turned and felt a cold breeze, as if someone had just ran by him, and into the next room. The door opened slightly, almost beckoned him to enter. He got up on his shaky legs and struggled inside the room. As he came nearer, a gust of wind slammed the door shut in his face, knocking him down. Nick quickly got up and rushed upstairs where he tripped at the top and blacked out.

When he recovered, Nick realized he was in a different place. An eerie feeling came over him. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed he was at a cemetery. Thick trees with sprawling branches covered the already darkened night. Mist was creeping from the ground below. A strange force led him to a large stone-like object. On it he read Ð''Nick Navrotski, 1984-2005"

"This can't be, am I really dead?" muttered Nick.