Exemplar: A Good Narrative Essay
On an otherwise calm and uneventful day, I heard what sounded like an enormous train, derailed from the tracks and coming straight at me. As I put the mattress over my head, I suddenly remembered that my roommates had not made it home yet. I had to make a decision quickly.… Do I stay under the mattress and be a coward, or do I go and try to find my friends? After much reflection, I realized that it is important to try to help your friends even if it puts you in harm’s way.
I learned this life lesson one spring day, when a twister tore through downtown Ft. Worth. I could have stayed in my closet with my cat, a mattress over my head and a radio, but in hindsight, I am glad I braved the storm to look for my friends.
En route, I watched the bent anarchy of rebar, walls, glass and unidentifiable structures, gnarled and toothy, as they paraded in a watercolor swirl in the aluminum windows. Driving the route from our house to downtown that they would have traveled, the song “A Bridge Over Troubled Water” came on, which was fitting to the situation. By the time I approached downtown, the wind had ceased and an eerie stillness settled in. Puddles stretched out in front of me, threatening to engulf the whole town. What I noticed first about the water everywhere was the absence of artificial light reflecting back at me. Night had fallen and because of the tornado all of the streetlights were out. I thought to myself…
“This is what night is supposed to look like.”
I noticed that even the marquis lights were out. All of the buildings were dark and anonymous; none bared the logo of a corporate tenant. I witnessed natural night, just as people had before humans preferred artificial sunlight. For, as far as the eye could see there was not a working conduit for electricity to pass through, nor could I hear that distinct buzzing in the air. There was only me, Simon and Garfunkel on the radio, and the glimpses of scared people hiding under disjointed facades of the less-affected buildings. Stepping out the car, I saw the moon finding its face in the stillness of the oblong puddles below me. The power lines looked like the teeth of a boxer after a brutal fight; they were going every which way in a haphazard arrangement.
I found my friend’s car, in the aftermath, trapped in debris. I was terrified! What happened to them, I wondered. I looked across the street and among a crowd of astonished and frightened expressions; I finally located my friends. I saw from the ghost-white expression on my friend Leah’s face that she was in shock. My other roommate (and friend) was talking amongst others who were injured. He was helping the bartender pour shots of whiskey to calm the people down, since the refuge they had found happened to be a bar. Leah had a piece of glass embedded in her arm and bloody knees; my other roommate had deep cuts on the palms of his hands. Leah told me that she was caught running from her car to this building to seek shelter, and when she opened the heavy-metal door to the bar, the tornado picked her up like rag doll and slammed her knees into the asphalt. They did not need an ambulance, so I ushered them to my car. I was met with reluctance when I insisted that they go to the emergency room. Arguing the whole way, I drove them to the emergency room. They were admitted to triage, and the doctor said that Leah’s gash in her arm needed stitches, and she needed a tetanus shot. They disinfected their wounds, and a few hours later, we went home.
Even though my friends might have fared okay without me, I am glad that I could help them out. Since, Leah was in shock, she was not aware of the seriousness of her injuries and probably would not have sought medical attention without my coaxing. If I am faced with a life-threatening situation again, I will come to the aid of my friends. Hopefully, this sentiment will not be challenged any time soon.
Source:
http://www.unt.edu/writinglab/thenarrativeessay.html
