Personal Narrative: The Kite Runner

A part of me always knew that I’d have to tell the story of the big quake- and I always hoped that I would never come to that. When it happened, my mind froze. I was sitting on my couch, reading ‘The Kite Runner’. I was trying to prepare myself psychologically to get up and knock some things off the to-do list; picking up my sister from work and before my mother got home to a house that would be hopefully clean. As I was sitting on the couch, flipping through the pages of the book that I had just started reading, the house started shaking violently. I put my feet on the floor and started to run towards the door. I stood behind the door, holding on to it while everything around me thundered. I sat there, not knowing quite what to do, as is always the case with these earthquakes. My immediate position was safe, or seemed safe enough. I suppose the safest thing would have been to run, but at the moment all I could think to do was wait things out. It was the most violent kind of shaking. It was as though the house sat on a giant machine that was snapping it back and forth, up and down, however it liked. It took a while for the noise to build up and the noise that came from it was frightening. It sounded as though there was a big explosion, …show more content…
When we went to Kathmandu Durbar Square, it was hard not to break down. Most of my favorite temples had turned to piles of rubble. There was dust everywhere and people caked in mud from the debris were being rushed to the hospitals. The Bhimsen Tower had been destroyed to pieces with only dust and old bricks remaining. Then another significant aftershock came. We were pretty scared. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as the shock began to set in and I felt sick to my stomach. We were in a narrow street and people were crouching in doorways to take cover and as soon as the quake was over we ran to the nearest open