Percival W Madison Personal Narrative

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* Let the record show that Percival W. Madison has Autism and is under the continual surveillance of his sister Elizabeth Lydia Madison and His doctor/ psychiatrist Jane H. Heather.* My name is Percival Weyms Madison and I live on P. Sherman 42 Wallaby Way Sydney. Phone number: 867-5309. When I was growing up, I constantly was under a struggle to please my father. He never was satisfied by my actions no matter how hard I tried. I didn’t quite understand his anger toward me until I accidently walked in on him and my mom, Kathleen, fighting. I stood listening at the key hole to hear father bellowing that I was an unsightly, crybaby and was better of dead, or worse a girl. The room smelled funny; somehow, my instincts told me that it…show more content…
Some even had uniforms already. I didn’t pay too much attention to them except to notice how mean one of the boys looked. I was hurried along to the plane by some stranger but was too scared to protest. On the plane, I started crying with the bitterness of what was happening. When would I ever see sister again? Was I being punished for something I did wrong? I cried myself to sleep on the plane. When I woke up people were screaming. I felt like I was rising out of my chair even though it looked like we were falling. That’s when I started screaming then every thing went dark. I woke with the sun in my eyes. I got scared thinking I was dead but when I squinted them, I appeared to be on the ground next to the plane wreck. That’s when I heard a noise. It’s sounded a bit like the noise grandma’s car made when it was a long way off. Though I knew, they were already dead from old age, it was the only thing familiar in this alien place. I followed the…show more content…
All I remember was trying to find food and the next thing I knew they were putting stuff on my face and telling me to walk in a straight line and to make a chirp if I heard one next to me. There was a bright red glow behind me while someone in my head told me to keep walking. I tried to walk fast but the light was close. I ran and tripped in my hast to get away from the heat and smoke. The light was upon me but then I saw an opening in the fire so I ran towards that. The fire licked my hands and arms as I ran by to see a world of blue sky and black ground. That’s when I heard the engines and saw the white kite. I had always wanted a kite and since I was likely never to receive one from father, I ran toward it with greed. When I got to the beach, I saw that it wasn’t a kit but a very large ship. There was already a small crowd of boys in front of the carious looking adult. I suddenly heard a cry; it was Ralf, followed by several others. I started crying too. There was no kite. I was scared of those mean boys in the uniforms and paint on their faces. I was scared of the monster. Most of all I was tired, tired of all the fear, of not being held and loved by sister. I was

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