Personal Narrative: Three Houses Later

This story most likely isn’t the brightest one of the many you have, but then again this story is based on a difficult time for me. I faced many hardships all at the same time at the age of nine; it was by far my hardest year.

The house on Plum Street was a tall and narrow building littered with rain battered fliers and miscellaneous bills like a house shaped pinata. A paper taped to the front door of a house can mean any number of things; a local bluegrass band was hanging fliers for a gig and wanted to get the word out or a very persistent Jehovah's Witness wanted to get the Good Word out or you haven't paid your mortgage in two years and the bank is foreclosing your home, for example. In this case it was all of the above.

I sat in silence for a moment and took a deep breath. This was my home, did I really want to leave it? Despite hating the place it still meant a lot to me. I found comfort in it’s small town ways. The familiarity of it made me feel safe. I could navigate up and down the streets blindfolded I bet. But I knew in my heart that it was time to go. I looked up at my dad and he was watching me.

As our family watches the T.V. screen we sit hoping that our ticket may be the ticket, but we well know that the chance of us winning this lottery is like a one in a million chances.

Sitting at the dinner table, I shoved a bite of steak in my mouth. Forks and knives scraped at the table, breaking the silence in the air. I grabbed the cold cup that held my drink and glared at my dad. Sitting there, all quietly, as if he had done nothing wrong. He had gone from being the man who would race down stairs when dinner was ready so he could spend time with his family, to the man who was cooped up in his office.

It all started soon after I had turned 12. The relief society president in my ward was speaking in sacrament, and she mentioned the upcoming youth temple trip, which would be my first one, and encouraged every single one of us to find our own family names to take with us. She expressed to us the immense joy and ultimate pleasure she felt when she did work for her family, and I wanted to be able to experience those feelings as well.

My family is full of narrow-minded, supercritical Italians; they know what they like and what they do not like. When it comes to food and customer service, my family does not mess around. Growing up around that for so many years, I would say that I also carry those traits. During a conversation, my aunt brought up a restaurant called Hearthstone. She went on a rant about the price of the food and how the quality of her meal was not as extravagant as it should have been for how much they were charging for it. Mind you, my aunts' been to some of the best restaurants in the country so she has a lot of background. Once she had all of those negative things to say, I already had a predetermined mindset of this place. I knew I had to try this so-called

This picture means home to me because, not only is it one of the biggest attractions in New York City but I have a connection to it that represents home to me because. I am from Queens, NY, and it was pretty much quiet I moved to Harlem a few years ago and it was a different world that I had to get become adjusted to it. When I first moved here Times Square was a big part of my life, because I now lived less then 30mins away from it so I could visit it all of the time, and there is nothing like it in Queens. I would go there every weekend to shop, eat, go to the movies etc. I created many memories there and, I’ve become familiar with the streets so I can navigate times square and surrounding areas easily as I can do in my own neighborhood

Its 5am time to pack I can’t wait to get to Florida it’s going to be lot of fun. But im so tired but we still got to go

A place that I often go and feel like I belong, is my cottage in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. My family travels to the cottage at least once a summer. Before entering the house, you are greeted by a nice yard and shed. The grass is greener than a Saint Patrick’s Day parade. There is a cobble stone pathway guiding one to an outdoor rocking table. When taking a step into the shed, a musty scent over takes your sense of smell. To some, this smell is not a good one, but to me and my family, it is the smell of the shed. The shed is full of outdoor activities, such as croquet, corn hole, mini golf and more. My siblings and I are able to enjoy time with each other, as we play games together out in the yard. Our bikes are tucked away into the shed, waiting for us to ride them. Beach chairs, umbrellas, and sand toys are all stored on a shelf attached to the ceiling. Next to the shed there is an outdoor shower, where we fill our water guns and water balloons before a water gun fight.

The HR department had their annual one on one meeting with staff that was mandatory. I would have called in sick as usual but since I’m living with Charles it was hard to do that since he was technically my boss. So hence why I’m sitting across Emma asking me literally the dumbmest thing known the man.

In the car ride home, I was confused myself. I was clueless as to why my dad looked so angry and my parents were bickering back and forth about something. I remember my dad screaming “I don’t fucking know why!!!” to my mom. When we got home my grandparents followed right behind us. My grandpa said to my dad “Ryan, what’s going on?” Agitated, my dad swiftly turned to face my grandpa replying “I got laid off! They told me there were too many workers, but they get rid of the guys who have been working there for years and know what they’re doing and keep the new guys they imported with no experience? I don’t understand!” My dad marched to our back steps and sat looking straight forward. Tears started to roll from his eyes. MY father revealed the teenager inside; he took his souped up Toyota pick-up and took off.

“They’re here!” Mom announced as she saw the red minivans pull into our driveway. Out of the two vehicles came Mrs. Stempky, Claire, Anna, Carol, Olivia, Nicole, and Mrs. Ventocilla. The girls ran to the door where I was waiting. Excited that the scavenger hunt had gone well so far, I gave Olivia a big hug, because being the second oldest of five, this was her time to shine. I told everyone but Olivia and Carol to go to Sunnyside Park and set up for the party. While they were there Olivia had to find the final clues. I gave her my clue, the one that said look under TTR, hoping she would understand. While she read and tried to make sense of it I asked Carol how finding the other clues had gone. She replied that all had worked out, and that Olivia had no idea any of this would happen. Olivia’s face lit up and we knew that she had solved the clue, now there was only one more to solve, the main clue. The clue that read, “Let’s get eggs Sunnyside up!” The only problem would be if she didn’t remember Sunnyside Park, but to our relief she did.

The home was really messy. It had a lot of dangerous and hazardous elements all around the home. As soon as I walked in I saw cocaine on the table, at arms reach for the children in the home. The mother had prescription medication lying all over the home: living room, bathroom and bedroom. She also had alcohol and cigarettes lying around the home were the children had access to them. The mother had empty wine bottles lying around the home. The cleaning supplies were out in the open were the children could reach them. This could be a hazard due to the fact of the different chemical in the product. When I looked inside the refrigerator, the mother just had eggs, juice and milk for the children. The refrigerator contained more

The last box hit the ground as I signed the rest of the papers. The warm welcoming of the new house showed I made a wonderful decision on choosing the right house. My stress was relieved and my mind was refreshed. Just as I sat to down to relax, the seller of the house had one piece of advice.