Personal Narrative: Where Am I Go To America?

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Eight thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five miles. That’s the the distance I was to embark on to a greater future. At eight years old, i was thousands of feet up in the sky in a machine i never imagined myself on. I had just left everything behind at my home, Zimbabwe to go to America. The only people i had with me was my mom and brother. I was sad and excited; reason being that I would be my first time seeing my dad for the first time in 4 years.
The trip started early morning in South Africa where my mom, brother and I had been staying before leaving. That morning I could barely eat my breakfast. I was so worried about not being able to recognize my dad. Shortly after we arrived at the airport for the first time was amazing, the place was gigantic. Walking into the airport all i could see was fast paced feet and suitcases moving fast in all directions. There was a lot of noise from security alarms to the voice intercoms. Surprisingly i saw many white people than I thought. At that moment I remembered how there was a small population of …show more content…

I saw many people there. In my 8 year old mind i was so amazed on how a plane, something so tiny that i had seen while being outside and playing with my friends could hold that many people. I could see by my mom and brother body language they were both excited and yet terrified of this flying machine. We were the first people called on to enter the plane. I tried to take in the moment as much as i could since; even from a young age i knew the significance of the that day. As i walked in, last one behind my family, i was extratic to enter the plane. Standing and waving in front of me were these two ladies in blue uniforms. Standing behind them were 2 male guys in suits. I tapped lincoln from behind and said “Lincoln!” “Those two guys are our pilots!” I was so excited it was like I was meeting

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