The Goldfish-Personal Narrative

I sat appalled, not daring to drop my gaze. His eyes were dark similar to mine when I would become enraged. Deep and hollow, no life in them. After all those years singing to a mirror or my shower head, those harmonic tunes...the owner of the song was just meters in front of me. The frigid water would cascade down my back to the point I knew it was time to leave the shower. I knew I was a terrible singer, just ask my pet goldfish - which died. I shuddered at the remembrance of the funeral I assembled for my beloved fish. Took him home, died the third day. He was my favorite though.

I over fed him. I thought fish loved food as much as I did...I would pet him too. I wasn't witty, but I sure did think out the box. Literally. I grabbed a shoelace …show more content…
I'm no one important." I pleaded, shielding my face with my free hand as they pushed their cameras way too close for my liking. It was seconds before I felt someone jab me in my side, and I came crashing through the group of cameramen and into the hotel's automatic rotating door.

Thankfully, my head was inches away from the revolving door, but the sting in my knees signaled a different story. Landing painfully on my knees, with all my belongings now discarded and on display, I looked up to the culprit. He didn't even offer me a hand, his camera was too far in his face for him to see three centimeters ahead of him.

I could feel a bruise forming on my left knee, as I brought it up towards me. All of them surrounding me, not giving much of a flying fūck to see if I was okay. I mean I was, but can I at least get some decency of respect? Instead they tried walking over me or pushing me around to get inside the revolving door behind …show more content…
I forcefully pushed myself up from my awkward sitting position and brushed off my battle wounds. At my side was no other than Scooter Braun. The crowd had slowly broken up into several groups and flashes. One of the body guards I recognized from the van was ordering them to stand back. Scooter shot me a concerned glance, and I shook my head not daring to meet his eyes.

My vision blurred slightly as my eyes stung. Damn it.

I was sure that my eyes were as deadly brown as I imagined them to be. Taking a look at my legs, I noticed my pants had a rip where my knee was on show.

These cost me a fortune!

Or maybe just fifty dollars because that's as much that I would put into a pair of pants. Especially from Urban Outfitters. The rip wasn't too bad, but it did look a little bit scuffed