Stories Focussed On Spider-Man

(not a 1shot) Autobiographical Narrative

So, I'm in AP Lang and my teacher had us all write autobiographical narratives so she could get to know our writing styles and get to know us as people as well. Essentially, an autobiographical narrative is a short story retelling an evemt that actually happened to me. I'm really proud of this and I think you'll like it and get to know me as a person a bit better, so enjoy!

Autobiographical Narrative

Once upon a time in the land of Indiana, I existed. Hey, don’t look so surprised, I am the narrator here, show some respect. Or don’t - that’s always an option since the entire story here takes a jab at me, your ridiculously humble author. I would prefer it if you went down the respect route, dear reader, seeing as I still somehow care about your opinion of me even if we never actually meet in person. But, some things cannot be helped.

Anyways, our lovely story takes place at a church camp that everyone calls teen camp at Lake Placid. No, not the Lake Placid, this is a different one that is located near Hartford City, Indiana. After our evening service, everyone streamed out of the sanctuary building and outside. For the Red, Orange, and Yellow teams, we were heading to our evening campfires where we discussed how God had moved that day. For the Green, Purple, and Blue teams, they got the privilege of having the first shift hanging out at Burghan’s Barn, AKA The Barn, eating snacks, playing games, chilling at the playground, playing basketball, ect. while we had our campfires. 

Upon stepping outside, I pulled a can of bug spray out, the brand of which I cannot recall, and turned to my friends. Don’t give me that look, I do have friends. We’ve all known each other for what felt like eternity, but, for most of us, was actually just our entire lives. I turned to Destiny and Carlotta and offered up the treacherous can, each of us getting our own coating of protection from the carnivorous bugs that we all knew and hated. Naturally, me being me, I managed to spray some in my eyes, which stung worse than the bites it was attempting to protect me from. Note to past self: bugs do not eat one’s eyes, therefore one does not actually have to spray them.

    Rubbing furiously as we walked and talked on our way to the Red Team campfire, the burning sensation finally went away and that was that. Or, at least that was how it had seemed at the time. Now, I know that I was very incorrect in that assumption.

    Sure, I noticed that I wasn’t quite seeing the same out of my right eye, but I brushed it off as my contact having gotten dirty when the spray so viciously attacked me.

    Minutes later, we were huddled around the campfire, all thoughts of social distancing forgotten, as we discussed the events of the night and how they affected us and what we would consider as we resumed our lives when we inevitably had to go home. It was a routine everyone was used to, but it was still as interesting and enjoyable as the first time we did it. 

    Glancing down, I noticed a glint of something in my hair. I blushed furiously, suddenly thankful for the dark evening and flicked it out. In my mind, I recalled a moment that had happened minutes prior where I had sneezed. I was more than sure that I had had a booger stuck in my hair from the event. It was both disgusting and embarrassing, despite that fact that no one had noticed the small movement.

    Soon enough, the campfire ended and the time at The Barn commenced. Proceeding to get in line for food, many of my friends followed suit. After deep consideration of snack choices and drink sizes. I settled on the classic combination of a large Pepsi and a pretzel. Upon reaching my chance to place my simple order, I discovered that they were out of large cups, causing me to downsize to a small. I noticed that several of my companions ordered the phenominal cheese fries (the best in the state, might I add), while others ended up ordering various delicious frozen treats.

    We adjourned to my dorm room without any question, settling in nicely on our various seats on beds and the floor. I found myself sitting facing both sets of bunk beds set out in front of me, my snacks neatly sitting within my reach on the carpet before me. We continued on with our mirthful evening, laughing and messing around and generally having a great evening.

    Eventually, as all good things must come to an end, we started to prepare for bed, several girls leaving to head back to their own rooms. I soon found myself standing in front of a mirror preparing to remove my contacts from their positions in my eyes. Alas, try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to get that stubborn right contact out! I poked and prodded and pulled, but nothing would cause it to budge in the slightest. Only when I noticed my eye getting red in aggravation when I had only touched what I was sure was the contact, did I begin to entertain the possibility that something more was at play.

    I racked my brain for anyone else who wore contacts that might be of assistance, seeing as I had only been wearing them for a few weeks at the time. Destiny was in the bathroom. I decided to wait for Destiny. Waiting for Destiny was a really great idea, as it turned out.

    Upon her return, I immediately presented my delimma to her and she quickly glanced over my hazel right iris and confirmed what I had been afriad of: the contact had vanished. My mind flashed through the day, searching for any cause to such a turn of events when realization hit me harder than a frieght train. I quickly conveyed the thought to my roommates and we shared a laugh at the absurdity of what seemed to have happened.

    Note to self: one should not rub out contact and mistake it for a booger, it only leads to one poking at one’s eye near the day’s end.