Wednesday, September 18, 2019
My Dance with the Devil :: Personal Narrative Writing
There was a hawk in the night. This is unusually rare for an apprehensive town like Albany. Something began that night in Albany that would leave an everlasting experience in my mind. It all started somewhere around the beginning of the winter season. In fact, it was on a Saturday night during choir rehearsal. The choir was going over the final song when Derrick stopped by the church. He asked me to ride with him and a friend down to New Orleans. Well, this was an opportunity that I could not miss out on; after all, I was an inquisitive teenager, daring to experience life at all cost. At any rate, rehearsal had come to an end. So Derrick and I got into the car and headed out to Hammond to pick up his friend, Sharon, and then headed on down to New Orleans. With each mile of the way, I could only think about what I had gotten myself into by taking this trip without letting my parents know where I was going. The journey from a small quiet town like Albany to a major city like New Orlean s had become a sudden switch to a risky atmosphere. It was mandatory that Mom or Dad always knew where I was whenever night appeared; this was a rule I lived by growing up in their home. On the contrary, here I was with Derrick and a total stranger as we headed down to a city that was known for violence, New Orleans. However, as if that was not enough, Derrick and his friend Sharon brought along some marijuana cigarettes that he had already rolled to smoke along the way. Since I did not smoke marijuana, Derrick brought a fifth of vodka and a bottle of orange juice along just for me. This mixture would get my head all messed up, like theirs, leaving me floating in a cloud without a worry in the world. He wanted me to enjoy the same sensations as he and Sharon. As we cruised on down to New Orleans, Derrick and Sharon smoked the reefer as I drank the vodka mixed with orange juice. We wanted to be on cloud nine so that by the time we reached the big city of New Orleans, our heads would be ready for adventure, and we could do anything, or so we thought. We reached our destination at last.
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