Personal Narrative: Moving To A Store

When I was seven years old I used to live in Minneapolis, Minnesota, I attended Harvest Prep Middle School. A lot of my friends talk about what I thought was a dream, The Mall of America. It was the biggest Mall in the USA. I begged my mom can we go, but it was always the same answer NO! Javaughn, We don’t have the money for that rite now! I was devastated, all my friends came to school talking about all the excitement that was there.

When I was working at Target there were two mangers that I was to train and help if they needed it. The conflict was that they come in and changed everything in our stations. Which was uncomfortable due to that I had more experience and was working there longer. Nothing work well within the ream after that point.

When I was four years old, I wasn’t paying attention to my parents and as they were walking into a store, they left me behind. I remember really wanting a Barbie bicycle and I had been distracted. I was then left alone inside of Rockingham Mall and since I was only four, I didn’t know what to do. At first, I started panicking and looking around the mall. I remember seeing a lot of people walking by and it was a really busy day. So then I started to cry and I walked around the mall all by myself. I was on the second floor at that time so I went down the stairs, which I tripped on. I had hit my hand badly and it was bleeding. That’s when I started to cry. I then walked around the mall crying until I reached one of the exits.

He went back to NC that night because he still had to work next day. He was waiting to transfer his positioning to Sevierville store. Everything was still the same, he came every weekend and we had such good time. We had plan about going to see my family in 2016 and we were working and saving money on it.

Walking through the grocery store and I hear an awful cry. Walking to the next aisle and I see a little girl screaming, kicking, and rolling all over the floor. She’s yelling, “Cake, cake!” Her mom yelled, “No!” and little Susie keeps screaming. Her mom had had enough, so she gives in to little Susie. I was just like little Susie; I would do whatever needed to be done to get my way. My brother Jared would soon find this out the hard way.

Remember those trips to the store or the mall you took with your mom because you either wanted something or you had to go? Everywhere you went, there’s always that one family with that one child that does something to the extreme that embarrasses them to cause everyone in the store to look. They could be running around knocking things down, screaming to the top of their lungs because they couldn’t get what they wanted. Then you always have that one in the family that believes they are invisible and runs around the store with little to no clothes on. It’s funny at first because you know you would never do that at all. However, that is when you’re older and you don’t believe the stories your parents tell you. I, undoubtingly, fall into that category.

On this rock there are a whole bunch of stars and hearts. They are all over the place, almost like sprinkles. There is a path that goes one house to another one that is far away from it. It makes my rock feel like home. It kind of smells like the way it smells at the end of summer. When everyone is starting to get ready for school to start, and it starts to cool down. It makes you remember to make time for the little things, because one day, you might look back and realize they were really the big things in your life. The stars represent all of the memories I have from Utah. All of the stars are spread out and have hearts in between them. Just like how most good moments in your life, are not all at the same time, they

As I walked into the music store I was overwhelmed with joy. Looking at every instrument I wish i could have. When out of the corner of my eye, I see it. A cherry red acoustic fender guitar. The light shined off of its mahogany wood as if the heavens themselves sent it from above. I brought it down from the wall and held it tight. It was lighter than I thought it would be. The body was smooth as glass, with no sharp

Moving to a different area that is larger can be difficult and frightening all at the same time. When I was fourteen, I moved from my small town, Glasgow, to a big city known as Columbia. Not only did I move to an unfamiliar city; however, I moved in with a man who had a similar appearance like me. He had the same brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, even our noses were the same. Be that as it may, this man was not unfamiliar to me because I had seen him in many pictures with me. Although I did not personally know him, my mother said that he was my father. As I began packing, I sat on my small twin size bed and started to wonder how my mother could just let me go. I was leaving my home that I had been use to for a long time with a strange man

Hair down, black converse, black jacket, slim cut khakis that’s what I was wearing when I decided to go to the store around the corner. I call it the “Chinese store” but not trying to being racist. Well it would not be racist cause no chinese work there. They don't mind anyone calling it that, it made them feel like they belong in the hood. Everyone in the neighborhood steals from there. Everytime I go into the store I see someone stealing. It is starting to become a habit for most people at any store not just the Chinese store.

Just before the sun set, the neighborhood kids would gather in front of my house, all 12 of us, along with various parents. We would all walk over to the suburbs by the golf course to get our treats, partially because the neighborhood was safer to walk around than our own and also because the residents were older retired

While looking for an opportunity to move out into a new market, I came across the ad WDIV Detroit had put out looking for a new Beat Reporter. As I prepare to graduate from the University of Southern Mississippi, I think this would be the perfect opportunity for me to branch out in the field while utilizing and sharpening the skill I’ve learned in the classroom.

Entering the Hub-City Bookstore, in downtown Spartanburg, is a fantastic way to lose one-third of your hard earned paycheck. This is not a condemnation of high prices. This is also not an opinion, but a statement learned by simply walking through the door and seeing the wonders of literature that beheld you. I walked into this bookstore, having been in many others before it, and previously assumed it wouldn’t be that difficult to walk out with my bank account still intact. You know what they say about assuming. When I walked out, my debit card was weeping tears of blood and wondering why I had forsaken it so.

Have you ever went to the store and looked at something like a toy or a electronic? I know I have wanted something so bad that I would do anything for it. Would you do anything for something you saw at the store.

Fear, anxiety, disappointment, these feelings were racing through an 11-year-old boy as he anxiously started to think about the rather frightening couple of weeks that he had ahead of him, and what this boy was going through is an experience that most people go through at some point in his life. This young boy was leaving all his friends, and is moving to a new home; and in 2011 this young boy was me. I moved to the small town of Troy in Virginia from a town called Wise in North Carolina in August 2011, and this happened less than a week before the county school system was scheduled to come back from summer vacation. When school started I was forced to take on the task of settling into a new community and school system. and I had to do this