Personal Narrative: I am Blind Essay -- essays research papers

I am blind. moreover I was not always blind. I once experienced the highness of a sunrise in late August and the awe of the lately blue sea as the sun glistens from it. Now I strike only my memories to comfort me. So they sent me here, a field trip, a good experience they say, to help me cope. They sent me to a deaf discipline for the day, unk instantaneouslying of how awkward it is for me. They gave me a buddy, entirely for what? We can?t happen through speech or sign language. ? You?ll figure it turn up,? they say. So now I perplex here, alone and desolate in darkness, hoping for the occasional warehousing to write upon the blank screen of my vision and bring life to this patently dead place.And so I sit. The ch short letter is hard and cold as stone, like a cement chair in a f both back cell. It is firm, but not strong, it squeaks and wobbles around like a fish out of water. I reach rectify to make sure all quartet legs are there. Yes, there?s four, four cold smooth spears typify my demise. Spears ready to leap forward and devour me if I make the slightest hurt or sudden move. I stretch out my arms, trying to identify my surroundings. To the left, nothing but air. To the right, another spear, but not like the others this spears lies on its side like the rails in my bathroom. My hand follows the cold rod. It hits something deviation a sting and cracking my thumb as it crushes against my hand. This must be the desk. I glide my hand along the smooth surface felling all the little bumps of eraser left behind. I feel along the sides and touch the unfaltering edges where pens ca-ca been dug in deep like sharp wounds fully grown the desk a unique personality. As my fingertips reach the center, I realize honorable how close the desk is, only about five inches away from my rapidly beatin... ... down the hall and I encounter a revelation of thought. We are dismission outside. I run faster now and burst through the face d oors into the great heaven. I can smell fresh cut denounce on the horizon and the soft warm rays of the sun finally smile down on my face. I breath the fresh cool air and listen. My bird has come back again and sings over the crackling flames and sirens of the trucks. It sings because it is free, it sings a victory praise for me because now I am free. I sit down on the wet grass and what I understand to be my buddy takes my hand. On my hand she spells out two earn. Two letters that say everything. She spells out ?O? ?K? and I cry because I know that no matter what happens or how much I have to suffer, in the end it?s okay because I am quick and I am free. So I am still blind, but now I am blind and loving it