The Fire :: Personal Narrative Writing

The Fire â€Å"C’mon, it’ll only take you a second,† he said. I can still remember the look on his face; he looked like a puppy begging for a treat. My red-haired neighbor was three years older than me; he had a sprinkle of freckles across his cheeks and a certain charm in his voice. â€Å"Ben, I don’t know about this. I don’t want to get into trouble,† I, being ever cautious, was always reluctant to participate in Ben’s adventures. â€Å"No one is going to find out. Stop being such a baby, and go get them!† he said, growing impatient. I was put in a difficult position. I had Smokey the Bear telling me it was wrong, and my best friend accusing me of being a coward. â€Å"All right, fine,† I said grudgingly, â€Å"I’ll get the matches, but you better come with me.† My heart was already racing, and I could feel my palms moisten. My father was the manager at the local bowling alley. This arrangement suited us well, as we would often spend our afternoons lounging around the bowling alley. For this particular act of mischief, the â€Å"Superbowl† was the perfect place to obtain our sought after matches. Much to our joy, the Superbowl was a mere mile away from our houses, just the right distance for twelve-year olds. It was far enough to seem like another world, yet close enough for us to venture to alone. We made our way through the dense foliage and towards the bowling alley. We had cleverly named our backyards as â€Å"The Woods†. For a child, even a dozen trees make a thick jungle. We soon came upon the large single-storied building; the prized matches were within. I saw the bowl full of matches on the snack bar counter. My heart was racing and my head was pounding; I might as well have been stealing the crown jewels. Much to my surprise, getting the unholy packet of matches was easy. We soon had what we yearned for. We now headed for our ‘Cabin’. The Cabin was a small clearing in a patch of trees. This provided us with ample space to play, and gave us the seclusion and privacy which acts of mischief required. We gathered the necessary materials and headed for Ben’s house. What possessed us to play with fire in the basement of his house, I cannot fathom. Ben and spoke little during this period.