com111_essay1_narrative

com111_essay1_narrative - Lori Jones Jones- 1 COM 111-3...

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-1Lori Jones Jones- 1 COM 111-3 Narrative essay Tuesday, June 10, 2008 Everyone must Breathe Until their Dying Breath To the world I once lived in, I am dead. I am gone forever. A ghost. A memory. In a forgotten cemetery, on barren land, my epitaph reads “September 27, 2008. All she ever wanted.” The wind blows, clouds drift in front of the sun, and nothing ever changes. “I’ve never been as confused as I was the day I was admitted…” I am sitting in group therapy now, listening to women three times my age verbally ruminate on their failed suicide attempts. I am bored as hell. She was right, though: nothing ever has made me feel so confused. I mean, how could anything? That night every move I made, every thought that entered my mind was slowed and blurred by the vodka and overdose of anti-depressants swimming through my bloodstream. The emergency room lights, the constant medical jargon leaking from what seemed like a hundred different doctors’ mouths, the cold metal from which my skin
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com111_essay1_narrative - Lori Jones Jones- 1 COM 111-3...

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