Personal Narrative: Personal Experience In The World

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Why does this place feel so strange? This place…filled with so many people who looks like me yet I cannot grasp onto why I feel like an alien entering a new territory. That summer my innocence was taken away and filled with the reality of immigrants and people which does not have a profession; vigorously work to fend for their families. The machineries and appliances rung in my ears when I walk in, the cold bitter air slams into my face as I shudder with feelings of confusion and shock. I stood at the corner of the room watching everyone work, unable to move I examine every little detail of the room. The creamy white and gray wall traps the room in its possession. Many workers scurry around to start the day, and supervisors with blue dress-shirt…show more content…
I took a gulp of dry air in my mouth and replied to him. Seems like he is in charge of placing new comers to an assembly line or anywhere. “You’ll be placed here” he pointed to line four. I am then led to be place in the front part of the wide conveyor belt to so my job. I was to lay down trays. Okay… easy enough. I started to place each tray in the conveyor belt and stare at it as it slowly flows down. I stare at the girl in front of me. She seems to be about in her early twenties… I wonder why she is here… I caught a glimpse at the woman and immediately directed my attention to my task. Of course, my wandering eyes look around and eavesdrop that some of my mom’s acquaintances are unemployed and were working in the factory as a temporary job. Earnings wasn't that of an enormous amount of an attention seeker as the gold rush was, yet it was better than getting…show more content…
YES!!! my insides squirmed and screamed. Yet, I cannot let this posture get to me. I must stand tall and do what I’m suppose to do. Many of the workers here here petite middle age women who loves to joke and lecture each other. Despite unwanted the conversations from me, they still took a shot. “Zong, do you have a boyfriend?” One of my mom’s friend’s smile beamed at me while she was doing her work. “No,” I look to my side awkwardly. Okay... not going to talk anymore about my social life with these people. “Sure, sure” she replies with confidence and laughter, she probably thinking that I was lying or so. Truth was, I wasn’t comfortable in exposing my personal life to these people that I just met. Unlike them, they talked a lot about their life today even from the beginning of their younger years. The group of line assemblers seem to have a special bond that results in their strong teamwork. Many of their jokes made me smile sheepishly about these ludicrous women in their thirties and forties way of

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