The Day Of My Life

Decent Essays

On a starry winter night in 2008, a call came from my father reporting that he would be making a visit to my family within the next week. Hearing this news caused chills to rush through my body. I was finally about to see my father after four long years. I was only six years old when he left. The day of his visit came and went like time in an hourglass. However, I can still recall every single detail pertaining that day and his visit. The atmosphere was filled with joy and excitement. I remember a tall, brown man walking in the house wearing an all-black suit. This style of clothing was very new to us because we’d never seen it before, but it brought a sense of professionalism. I also remember he brought us plenty of items from the U.S which appeared to us as jewels because we’d never seen anything like them. My eyes spotted some chocolate in one of the bags and suddenly there was a pleasing scent of chocolate all over the house. The chocolate had a smooth and rich taste; it was as if I had experienced the most exquisite delicacy ever known to mankind. A few days into my father’s visit, when I came home from school, I saw huge suitcases laid on my bed and around the house. I asked my mom what was going on, and she said, “We’re moving to America.” Excitement rushed through my body as I heard the wonderful news. I couldn’t wait to live in America. Living in Pakistan, my family and I were indoctrinated into believing that America was like a fantasy that would only come true to

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