Narrative- My Suppressed Wild Side :: Personal Narrative Writing

Narrative- My Suppressed Wild SideTen years old 1975, still in my boy body, my boy mind. stiff and strong with the endurance to play all day moving from the tangled, viney jungle on the far side of the pond to the secret play house in the damp dark basement of my best friend Davids house, to the high speed heroics played out on our banana-seated bikes. I was non a boy of course, but wanted to be. I climb trees, even ones sticky with sap. The smell of pine hangs on me as I lie in bed at night. I ride up the hill on Saturday, find David and set to digging a big hole in the dirt. We collect old pans and buckets from his mammys messy kitchen and create a hooey booey stew. We are hobos having our meal by the tracks we are Davy Crockett or Daniel Boone eating by the fire deep in the wilderness. The meal over, David and I pour our concoctions into the deep hole, add dirt and more water he yells, Get the hose and then rolling up our tuff jeans, we stand in the muddy mix of grass and wat er and dirt, stomping up and down, giggling and falling over. What pleases me is to feel it between my toes and to feel the tightness of mud drying on my shins as we catch our breath lying by the hole sun-baked. Afterwards, bellies to the ground, David and I crawl under the prickly, holly branches to get to our secret fort. It pleases me to taste the salty sweet of blood from a scrape that I refuse to get a band-aid for. Later, I ride my bike home from Davids full speed down the hill, but not fast enough to appease my full bladder. Wonder what it would feel like to just pee as I ride my bike? So I pee my pants and the sensation is a wonderful release a naughty rule-breaking. And in the summer I jump with my brothers and sisters off a 25 foot high cliff down into the river where my dad waits for us. Ohthe force of the cold water on my skin and the strength of my fathers big strain as he guides each of us towards the rock to climb out. Summer nights I lie on the dewy grass, watch f or shooting stars and try to the hit the constellations as my dad has taught me.