Sample Essay on Diagnostic Essay / A Narrative is a Story That You Tell to an Audience for a Reason

“HELP!” my sister Yvonne screamed, shattering the tranquility of the dead night into tiny smithereens. I had retired early to bed that night bogged down by fever and a rumbling stomach. My Father was away in Canada attending a seminar on Strategies of value Addition, leaving mother, Yvonne, and me. Before he left he said to me, “Son take care of your mother and sister, you are now the man of the house.” Those words echoed in my head, as I lay motionless in bed. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. My stomach was feeling better, though the fever was still present. For a moment, I thought it was the fever, which had woken me up from a terrible nightmare. “HELP ME!” there it was again. I was definitely sure now I was not dreaming and it was Yvonne crying for help. In a flash, I shot out of bed feeling a little groggy but steady.My room, facing the driveway was opposite Yvonne’s on the west side of our home. Her room was on the east side. It overlooked our kitchen garden and its large windows always welcomed the warm rays of the sun each bright morning, I had been envious of her. However, tonight as I rushed in, a pale blue moonlight illuminated the room. The windows were wide open. The sky was partly cloudy and the moon peeped above the cloud cover. Yvonne’s dark figure was coiling on the far side of her bed. I reached for the light switch, ‘click’ ‘click’ nothing happened. The power must was out or a fuse must have blown out. My night was not getting any better. I called out to Yvonne, “are you alright?” she mumbled something that I barely heard. Then she stretched her hand towards the window. My gaze followed her out stretched hand, and my eyes caught a dull figure lying on the floor. I was not sure what it was. My instinct advised me against going to investigate. In the midst of my trance, I heard a faint footsteps coming towards where I stood rooted. I turned back, and the faint flowery perfume of my mother hit my sensory organs. She came holding in her left hand a torch. I was glad I had just enough company. I grabbed the torch from her hand and fiddled with its switch. The light beam hit the dull figure on the floor. “Oh my god!” my mother exclaimed. Lying there next to the window was a black and yellow-skinned snake. It had a huge head with a flickering tongue. It seemed startled by the light and the sudden attention we had given it. It started hissing loudly. Yvonne broke into sobbing. I could not move. Suddenly I had these nauseating feeling. I felt my fever suddenly become more intense. My mother grasped my hand tightly and shouted to Yvonne to cover herself up. I knew we had to act fast. There so many question running in my head. However, one thing I was sure the snake had entered through Yvonne’s window. It wasthe window that always turned me green with envy. I was jolted by my mother’s nudge from my thoughts. She asked me to fetch the long handled broom. Her idea was simple; we would try distracting the snake, and drawing its attention so that Yvonne could ran to us at the door. It was a simple yet effective. The only part I was not sure with was who exactly would do the distracting. I have never been a fan of the scaled reptiles. A mere thought let alone sight would make me develop goose bumps. I left Yvonne covered up to the chin and mother trying to calm her down and I ran to the kitchen downstairs. It was directly below Yvonne’s bedroom. The kitchen window itself was securely shut and the branch of the low hanging tree scratched on its surface. The broom was lying next to our pet dog’s Bobby’s food dish. I reached for it and rushed back upstairs, wondering where Bobby was. I found mother still standing by the door. “Mommy am scared,” she said. At that moment, my mother asked me to step forward and distract the reptile. With the broom in my left hand and the torch on my left, I moved towards the snake. my heart beat loudly with every step I took. This is what it takes to face my fear. Fear of snakes to save Yvonne. I took two more steps switched off the torch and said to Yvonne, “Be ready.” With trembling hands, I switched the torch back on and hurled the broom’s handle at the snake. The snake coiled and hissed very loudly. I knew this was it. In a flash, it lunged forward and bit the middle of the broom wooden stick. Yvonne rushed from her bed into her mother’s safe hands. For some unexplained reason, I hit the snake again on its head this time instead of running. There was a dull thud and it slithered out of the window. I collapsed in a heap, as I watched its tail disappear into the night. Mother rushed to shut the window.And I knew we were safe.