Personal Narrative Essay : Personal Writing

Decent Essays

People tell me I have bubbly handwriting, but It wasn't always so - well - bubbly.

I don't remember why I was there that afternoon, and I don't remember why that specific elementary school wanted a ridiculous amount of DVD’s. All I remember is a more distant version of someone I now know very well, a sharpie, a run down school, and my bubbly handwriting sprawled over 150 DVD’s with the words on the top, the date on the left - not the right- , and the time code on the bottom.

I remember after a while the sharpie smell stained my nose but ignored it. Not because it was tolerable, but because it was a side effect of one of the first conversations I had been a part of in weeks. Here I was, writing the same thing over and over, but not in a Bart Simpson esc “acknowledge what you did wrong” situation. I did it so i could forget what I would face when I left school that day, I did it so I could talk to someone who wasn't asking for advice, or talking about themselves. He just listened, and I got to talk about my transition from freshmen to sophomore, what I liked to do, why I was even there in the first place.

I had joined my high school's Film Club a year prior to this conversation, and it honestly hadn’t done anything for me. It was something fun that my boyfriend wanted to do, and anything he did I had to do. Anything he thought would be “good” for me, I had to do, I didn't have a voice to say any different. But here I was, talking, not because I had to be polite, but

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