Summary Of Personal Narrative: Killer Bees

When I was a teenager, I was spending the summer at my uncle's farm in Nebraska. Three days after arriving at the isolated farm I decided to hitchhike out of there. I woke up in a cold sweat last night, screaming and crying as the horror of what happened that fateful day erupted from being buried in my unconscious all these many years. The nightmare of unknown horrors swarmed my consciousness like killer bees.

My neighbor Jerry, a forensic psychiatrist by day, heard by screams and burst into my house carrying a 9mm glock ready for action and to save me from my attacker(s). Finding me alone and not set upon by tormentors, he held me tight in his arms until my sobbing and trembling subsided. I told him of my old memories, breaking the surface of my consciousness. He reached into his bathrobe pocket and gave me a handful of Clonazepam 2 mg tablets saying to take one every 4 hours until I calmed down.
For that I needed an attorney he said. He gave me the telephone number of an attorney to call in the morning. After breakfast and Mass Sunday morning, I dialed up attorney Gloria Allred. She answered during the first ring. After explaining my hitchhiking experience years ago and the nightmare Saturday night, she said that either Bill Cosby or Roger Ailes was responsible and should be made to pay for what they had done. The guy that picked me up that day so long ago was white so Roger Ailes was our perp Gloria