St. Francis Narrative

747 Words3 Pages
St. Francis, Minnesota is where I have called home for the past 18 years. A city in Anoka County, St. Francis has a population around 8,000 people. There has been way too many times that I have been told, “Oh you go to a Catholic School” after telling people I go to St. Francis High School, home of the fighting Saints. Five years before my family moved into my neighborhood it was a huge swamp, all that’s left of that swamp is a small little pond area right next to the park’s playground and mailboxes. My family fit six people in a cramped four bedroom trailer house, not those cheap worn down ones, but the ones that almost look similar to real houses. Our house was off of Ambassador Street right down the street from County Market. I always tried…show more content…
He was gone a lot when I was young, so I didn't get to see him often. My mother used to tell me stories about how I would cry and hide behind her when he came home. I guess that is why we never got close. When he finally retired from the Navy, he would get angry and stressed, but, it’s better now though. I remember hiding in my closet when my parents would fight. I was so young and it hurts my ears. As a result of that I began hiding in there when I just wanted to get away. I had pillows and blankets lying in there so it was easy to get away. Sometimes people would forget that I was home, and I would often fall asleep in there. I have two sisters and one brother; however, I often felt like I was the only one because they were a quite a few years older than me. My next youngest sibling, who is five years older than me, is my sister Samantha. We used to share a bedroom before my oldest sister Nicole moved out. We had the ugliest bedroom ever. There were wood panels that covered our wall from floor to ceiling and then we had that gross popcorn ceiling that would randomly fall down on you when you were doing things in there. My favorite part of the room was the bunk bed, I used to use the protector on the top bunk to flip onto the bottom; I only hurt myself once

More about St. Francis Narrative

Open Document