Narrative Essay On Gone By Jackson Douley

Gone. How is that word meant to be comprehended? What even is it’s meaning? Such a common word with such a profound meaning that everyone overlooks. I hear people say it everyday, and I feel like they are abusing the word when they speak because of how oblivious they are to it’s true meaning. Gone is nonexistent but once existed. You can not hear it, see it, smell it, touch it, nor feel it. Gone is a lost word with a lost meaning. Gone is bare, abandoned. Gone is what my mother will forever be. Not only my mother, but best friend. Gone. “Tobes!” my best friend called out. Jackson Douley. My second ranked best friend now my first ranked as of a couple years ago. Jackson and I have always been close since he moved in next door when we were …show more content…
“Grades are in?” “No, I just asked for fun,” I rolled my eyes at him. Jackson was always being sarcastic, but still am never able to recognize it, “I got a eighty-nine. An eighty-nine! How ridiculous is that? Can’t he just give me the A? I mean it’s not that hard. Nine, zero. Two keys. Honestly.” I didn’t want to tell him that I had gotten a ninety because he would just keep complaining, so I said I had received the same test grade and made an addition to his foolish remarks saying how bothersome our teacher …show more content…
“Decent. Eventful I guess. There was a big assembly they have every year emphasizing the importance and relevance of new beginnings.” “I remember those. I almost fell asleep my senior year because I had already heard it twelve times,” she adds. “Me too!” I say. We chuckle. “Your dad is out of town for the week on business. It looks like it is just going to be me and you, so I don’t know who is going to cook because I sure can’t.” My dad always is the one to cook in our family. It may seem like a reverse role, but that’s the way it has always been. Hazel not being able to cook makes me snicker because that just like my mom. Hazel and my mom are similar in many ways I’ve realized. Of course, my mom is irreplaceable, but I am becoming more fond of Hazel and really starting to respect her. A lot of people would not make an effort like she does. “Where should we go? Are you feeling more tacos or burgers?” “I’m feeling like tacos.” To be honest, I had no preference. “Toby,” Hazel hesitantly says. She begins to pull over the car.
“Yes?” I ask.
“I don’t honestly know if it is in my place to ask you this but,” She pauses for a significant amount of time. I have no clue what it could be