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One Day Research Paper

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It is November 4th, one of the longest days of my life it seemed. I woke up that morning to get ready for school, and I told myself, “One more day. Just get through today and your patience will have paid off. The best things are worth waiting for.” Though I told myself that, it was very much easier said than done. That day felt like it never ended, each class seemed to drag on for hours, and the bus ride turned from an hour and twenty minutes to a whole day. When I finally got home, I ran into the house and kicked my shoes off so fast while still running they flew across the room and hit the far wall I was so excited. My mind was running at a million miles an hour, gathering my gear, retrieving my clothes from the scent free laundry …show more content…

I threw the blanket off to the side, jumped out of bed and got dressed, then buzzed out to the living room, and turned on the news. Dad and I ate our quick breakfast, and Pam came out to say a quick, cheesy prayer with us and the “lucky stick” we have, and take pictures. To stand there with my dad, a big man that I have never seen so happy to take someone hunting with, and the small kid whose suit is a little too big and smiling ear to ear, I knew this would make memories to look back at for a long time. We hopped into the truck at six and we were …show more content…

After we stopped and shut the truck off, we ever so slowly and quietly exited the truck, went around to the tailgate, grabbed the guns, the little camo backpack of gear, sprayed down, and we were on our way. Even walking out, I was filled with emotions and my mind raced. Excited, nervous, alert, noticing and picking out every little thing that moved or made a noise. The frost crunching under my boots, watching my breath crystalize right before my eyes, the tops of trees swaying back and forth in the gentle wind, as if waving to us. We get to the stand, an old, wooden box on stilts, and climb up. When we get situated, I pulled out my phone to check the time. Six forty-five. I mentally took note of this and knowing legal shooting hours started at seven twenty, I calculated how long before this day could become an amazing one. Thirty-five minutes. I sit there anxiously counting down the time. After a while, Dad taps the side of my leg three times, and instantly I know what he means before he points out in the darkness. I can hardly make out the outline of a deer slowly walking broadside from left to right at about eighty yards in an open area straight in front of us. This is the kind of darkness where you can see the outline of your hand in front of your face, but not the rest of it. I could see the deer out there only because of its relatively large size. I reached down and turned on my phone that sits on the ground next to my

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