Examples Of Narrative Call Me Mildred

Call me Mildred. Actually, don’t. Only my parents call me that, and only when I’ve done something wrong. Call me Milly. Everyone does. If they don’t, I quickly correct them. After all, who in their right mind wants to be called Mildred? Not even my grandmother, from whom I got this name, wanted to be called Mildred. Everyone called her Milly too.
But this story isn’t really about me, just like Moby Dick wasn’t really about Ishmael. This story is about how everything in a tiny town in northwest Arkansas went from super normal to supernatural. Maybe I should start from the beginning.

It was Tuesday, September 2. A normal Tuesday. Only two weeks into my senior year of high school at Lincoln High School. Like almost every other normal teenager, I was already ready for it to be over. Everyone wants to escape Lincoln. Most won’t, but I was
Trinity was my opposite from her cool New Age name to her perfect blonde hair. She looked like she’d stepped out of an edition of Seventeen magazine. Her teeth, her clothes, her complexion were all perfect. She was also the nicest person I knew. I should have resented her for being so perfect, but she was completely oblivious to the fact that she should be one of those stereotypical mean girls who avoided the average to surround herself with beautiful people and things. Instead, she hung out with me. I am the epitome of average. Average height, average weight (not fat, not skinny), and totally average brown hair and brown eyes. While people stopped to stare at Trinity, they usually stared right through me. I might have cared more if I cared anything about this town or the people in it, but I didn’t, so my invisibility lost its sting. Actually, it was kind of amusing. I was party to all sorts of juicy gossip because people just didn’t see me. I was the official secret-knower of