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Personal Narrative : A Short Story

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“Are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet,” I rambled. It had been hours of me trying to fall asleep and trying to draw on the bumpy roads. “ Shut up,” yelled my sister. “UGHHH,” I replied. I remember to use love road trips but now I hate them, they're so boring. “Joyia, be quiet,” said my grandma. My grandma always seemed to side with my sister no matter what the situation was. I didn't care too much because my grandpa always sided with me. He was my favorite anyway. “Whatever,” I replied. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my social media. It was my therapy, practically my life. We had almost reached our destination when my heart filled with disappointment. “Ahhhhhhh, Oh my god,” Jalena yelled. My grandma has always had road rage. In fact I think my whole family has it. “It’s ok, It’s fine,” said my grandma. “No it’s not,” yelled my sister. My older sister, Jalena, was always worried about my grandma’s driving. I mean I was too, who wouldn’t be, I just didn’t yell at her about it. “What an idiot,” My grandma said as she was getting out of her car. Some guy in front of us decided to knock a cone over and it just so happened to hit our windshield. I heard some of my grandma's foul language but it drifted away as the door slammed shut. “Something just always happens,” I said. “Yep,” Jalena agreed. We turned on the radio, and drifted into the music to pass the time.

Next thing I could Clearly remember was waking up in the hotel room. I had heard rumors
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