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Short Story - a good day turns bad.

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´╗┐After an adequate sleep, I opened my eyelids and took in a ravishing sight. Resplendent rays of sunshine shone through my dusky curtains illuminating my dingy bedroom. What a divine day! It was the kind of weather that is extremely improbable for England, even in the middle of July. I arose from my double bed and amended my duvet. A wide grin stretched across my face as I drew my curtains apart. The sky was an alluring blue, as clear as a freshly cut diamond. The sun, a great ball of fire, Radiated over derby. As I strode into our recently redecorated bathroom, the stimulating scent of the air freshener wafted up into my nose. After fulfilling my daily routine, I advanced two steps back to examine my reflection in the mirror, the VO5 gel in the palm of my hand. ...read more.


Then my father had the idea of inviting my aunt and two cousin?s weather they would like to accompany us. They agreed. Even though we knew that Markeaton Park would be overflowing with people on a Saturday. We didn?t let that deter us. As well as my grandparents, my aunt and her two children also resided in Normanton. Normanton was equivalent of the South Bronx in New York. It was a region where all people of diverse origins inhabited. As you can imagine a large number of them did not get along with each other. This caused brutality, assaults and discrimination amongst the residents of Normanton. The streets were congested with debris. Most houses were debilitated and in atrocious conditions. When you heard the word Normanton, you certainly did not expect a nirvana. ...read more.


All of a sudden I had an adrenalin rush. ?Hold it?, my father said to the hoodlum as he got out of the car. The guys face turned absolutely red. He was scared. This showed everyone just how much of a tough guy he was. He ran off up Church Street; father chased after him and another followed. My heart was pounding frantically in my chest as if it was about to explode. Beads of sweat an down my forehead. The palms of my hands became clammy and perspiration ran down back. The man in charge of the other group came running in our direction.i became terrified. He got to our car and told me to park it on the curb. I felt relieved, knowing he wanted to help me and not kill me. I can?t drive man, I shot back at him. Besides, there were no keys in the ignition. My father must have taken them. ...read more.

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