Personal Narrative-De Tocqueville Library

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Walking through the doors of the old library, I was instantly hit with the smell of rotted wood and aged dust. Light bathed through the tall windows and reflected against the glass in the giant room. The light bounced around the library, creating a warm, welcoming halo. Instantly calming me in my time of anxious need. Shakily, I set my bag down on the nearest table and sat down quickly, awaiting for his arrival. “He’s an odd boy,” were the words of a random, anxious woman. “Very quiet and lonely- a recluse, but he doesn’t seem to mind it that much.” She spoke quickly. Her hands moved fast as she explained this unfortunate situation. “Okay,” I said, not asking anything else. I just had to teach him math and science because his failing grades…show more content…
I am still confused on how she got my information. But I guess being somewhat interested in my studies around here gets people’s attention. I waited for him to get here, he was already a couple minutes late. I silently picked at my nails and scrolled through twitter. Completely alone sitting at a lonely library sucks. I looked up as I saw a tall boy around my age, adorned in very tight, black skinny jeans and a red flannel. He slowly walked up to the table and flopped down right in front of me in a wooden chair. He just sat there and eyeballed me. His green eyes slowly dragged up and down my frail body. I felt that he was judging me a bit with his harsh stare. He had a look on his face of disgust and it slowly turned into blossoming curiosity. Confidence radiated from him like a water fountain. This situation was unlike his mother's description of him. I got the image of him being a bit more reserved, instead of confident and…show more content…
He gave this warm feeling in my stomach, even though he looked like he wanted to fight me. It was a strange sensation, but I know he isn’t up to any good. Green eyes slowly crossed his arms.”So?” He said, waiting for me to finally say something. He didn’t even bring his books or even a pencil. “Um, right, my name is Alina,” I said shakily. I took a deep breath and looked into my lap, a bit intimidated. “What a boring name that is,” I looked at him in confusion and scowled at him.”Your mother isn’t very good at naming people, huh?” He sat up and looked at me straight in the eyes. “I bet you think you are smart, is that why I’m here?” He cocked his head to the right. Well I’ve never thought of myself as an idiot, and my intelligence never bothered anyone so this situation was different for me. “I don’t think of myself higher than anyone else because of a stupid IQ. I’m not like like that. I’m just here because your mom asked me to help you. And no, I appreciate my mom’s decision on my name,” I said sassily. “Harry,” he said and offered me his large hand. “We are going to get along really well,” he smiled, showing off a set of perfect
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