Personal Narrative- A New Home
My heart beat at a rabbit's pace as I walked up the cement steps to a small building set on a hill. I took a deep breath in an effort to allow even a sliver of calm to permeate the sense of dread that engulfed my mind and body. I stole a quick glance at my two younger sisters, briefly grateful that I didn't have to face this completely alone. I walked through the front doors to the office directly inside. The secretary directed me to a room off to the right, which turned out to be a library. I sat down at a long table filled with about a dozen miniscule chairs where I sat, albeit uncomfortably, and awaited instruction. A man was sitting at thins table holding a sheaf of papers, which he indicated that I was to fill out. I took the forms with a shaking hand as he handed me a pen.
When I finished filling out the forms and returned them to the man, four strange-looking girls entered the library and stood there, staring at me with their friendly, yet critical eyes. I lowered my own eyes to the table in shame, feeling intensely out of place. A slight tremor ran through my body as though it wanted to run away whether or not my mind was conscious of this action. Shouted thoughts ran through my spinning head: "Where am I?" "What am I doing here?" "Why aren't I home, surrounded by things familiar to me instead of in this strange, formidable place with these critical-looking people?"
It is Spring Break 1999, and we are on the road somewhere between Gresham, OR, and Crawford, CO. I wish I could be like most kids, who were busy celebrating the week off by hanging out with friends and taking trips to the mall. But no. Today is Friday, and my mom, my two younger sisters, and I are busy moving halfway across the country, leaving behind everything we once knew because my parents got a divorce. A twinge of jealousy courses through me as I think of those whose only thoughts are of having fun and making the most of their vacation. The first three days of Spring Break were spent packing up our stuff and either taking it to the Goodwill, or putting it into the U-Haul trailer we rented. Even though I know we're moving for good, in the back of my mind it still seems like this is some vacation we're going on, and that we'll be back home in time for school on Monday.
As we pull into my aunt's driveway late Saturday night, and she greets us with hugs and hellos, I can't help but feel like maybe I've found a home away from home. As I brought my stuff into the house, the cheerful crackling of the fire in the stove increases the sense of comfort I feel in being here. Immediately I feel exhausted, as though I have just reached the end of a seemingly endless marathon, and I can't get into bed fast enough.
Sunday came and went with the air of a peaceful, yet strangely haunting dream. Suddenly I find myself lying awake at 2:00am Monday morning with the daunting task of my first day at a new school ahead of me. The reality of...