Personal Narrative: Home

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I remember sitting out on the veranda engross in an exquisite romance novel. From the kitchen, I could hear Florence in her rage stampedes around yelling every profane word attain in her vocabulary. Taking a deep breath, I try to immerse myself back into the novel trying to keep my mind stress free away from the catastrophic emotional baggage unfolds inside the house. The second I turn to the next page of the novel I hear the screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber compels me to glance up from the book. A tinted window dark green car speeds down the lane and launches an assault of bullets towards the house. Debris from bullets hits brick walls and windows and echoed pugnaciously in my ears. I sprang off the chair and duck behind the…show more content…
On a damp Tuesday afternoon, returning home from a family trip at the theater. I vaguely remember both my parents singing a song trying desperately to calm me down after I lost my favorite red hair cabbage patch doll, Brenda in the theater. In my little six-year-old mind, appear like the end of the world without my doll. I remember my father stopping at a red light and peers back at me making silly faces tries desperately to get me to laugh. My father superb at making me laugh. Within these few seconds, my life drastically altered, by a drunk driver of a two-door pickup truck slammed into my family car with my mother, father and myself inside. Both my parents instantly killed and I slipped into a six-month coma only to awaken to the news I’m an orphan. Astonish how life throws these wicked curve balls at the most, blissful of the times. I perceive such tragedy as a glass being half full, half empty kind of situation. While my parents will never be around to witness me become a woman, I will still attain some memories of the seven wonderful years with both of them before their untimely death. The second I’m released from the hospital, I’m placed into the system and loitered for four long excruciate and traumatized years. Till finally claimed by my aunt at the age of eleven, either by will or forcefully the verdict is still out on this. If I can go back and chose which situation

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