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Essay About The One Thing I Did Last Summer

Decent Essays
One Thing I did last Summer:
I gently place the plastic bag of groceries on the doormat beside me and ring the doorbell once, then twice, each knock on the door twice as loud as the one before. It was only after a final few kicks of desperation, when I finally hear the heavy footsteps of my roommate walking down the stairs.
“Where are your keys?” Roger slowly removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. He was still in his striped pajamas, the gaze in his eyes lifeless, and his frame even skinnier than usual. Upon hearing his extended low-pitched sigh, I quickly shuffle my feet and pretend to rummage through my pocket for it. There is no visible bulge, and within a few seconds, he had already waved his hand dismissingly turned his back behind
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They are nowhere to be found.
I had dinner that night right after reading my notes, and so, I run to the kitchen and open each cupboard above and below me, tossing the silverware and plates to the side, shaking each drawer that I walk past. The room stays dead silent, and there was no trace of the keys.
Slamming the fridge behind me, I make my way back to the bedroom and check my bed and backpack. I rip my backpack open and turn in upside down, hoping that my key would reappear; yet, the clinking sounds turn out to only be the dimes and nickels left from the change at the supermarket. Then, I The keys were still missing.
As a byproduct of my forgetfulness, I was accustomed to similar efforts and time for searching, but as I reenact the day and open the door for the third time that morning, the possibility of leaving my key by the lock overnight suddenly strikes me. I stomp my feet loudly and quickly to my computer to search for advice.
Losing one of the only two keys to a rented apartment was a definite recipe to losing my trust with my roommate and landlord, but the prospect of that key available to a random stranger or criminal was even more unsettling. My mind races, and this scenario seems inevitable as I look through my bedroom and bag one last time. I drag my feet to the room next door, where I hear a muffled voice of commentary supporting the unnatural sounds of a video game. Judging that he was awake, I
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