Free Essays on Personal Narrative

My father and I moved to Georgia 4 years ago for reasons pertaining to my father’s job, yet I seemed to look at it like fate had a great deal to do with it. I couldn’t understand why, and it didn’t come to me until much later. It seemed like such a bad thing at the time, I lost all my friends and moved so far from everything I knew, and seemed as if nothing good would occur. Even though at first I hated everything about Georgia, my attitude coincided with that fact and caused me to have problems with the â€Å"Locals†. I thought that everything in Georgia was so backwards and obtuse that I didn’t talk to all of them right off and act outgoing, this resulted in my coming across to them as if I thought I was better than them. Yet the truth being that I was just shy and so lost in this new place, which seemed so far from the world I once knew. After some time had gone by I realized it wasn’t so much the fact that I hated Georgia or the people in it, but rather that I missed where I previously had lived and all of the many things that went with it. I missed my family, friends, house, and basically everything of which my life was composed. But by this time the damage had been done, or so I had assumed. But now that I look back at the situation, I may have overreacted and caused myself more trouble than the situation warranted. The only reason I acted the way I did was because of how I spent my last day before leaving my hometown. One hot summer’s day I found myself inside an Allied freight truck, which was sweltering over 110 degrees, loading boxes of tightly packed personal items from my bedroom. As I was stacking boxes one on top of the other, I heard someone calling my name from afar. I exited the truck out of the side door, which was at least 8 feet tall, and walked down the long steel ramp into the yard. There I found my best friend, Tanner Sharp, standing in the yard with our little group of friends yelling one of his usua... Free Essays on Personal Narrative Free Essays on Personal Narrative My father and I moved to Georgia 4 years ago for reasons pertaining to my father’s job, yet I seemed to look at it like fate had a great deal to do with it. I couldn’t understand why, and it didn’t come to me until much later. It seemed like such a bad thing at the time, I lost all my friends and moved so far from everything I knew, and seemed as if nothing good would occur. Even though at first I hated everything about Georgia, my attitude coincided with that fact and caused me to have problems with the â€Å"Locals†. I thought that everything in Georgia was so backwards and obtuse that I didn’t talk to all of them right off and act outgoing, this resulted in my coming across to them as if I thought I was better than them. Yet the truth being that I was just shy and so lost in this new place, which seemed so far from the world I once knew. After some time had gone by I realized it wasn’t so much the fact that I hated Georgia or the people in it, but rather that I missed where I previously had lived and all of the many things that went with it. I missed my family, friends, house, and basically everything of which my life was composed. But by this time the damage had been done, or so I had assumed. But now that I look back at the situation, I may have overreacted and caused myself more trouble than the situation warranted. The only reason I acted the way I did was because of how I spent my last day before leaving my hometown. One hot summer’s day I found myself inside an Allied freight truck, which was sweltering over 110 degrees, loading boxes of tightly packed personal items from my bedroom. As I was stacking boxes one on top of the other, I heard someone calling my name from afar. I exited the truck out of the side door, which was at least 8 feet tall, and walked down the long steel ramp into the yard. There I found my best friend, Tanner Sharp, standing in the yard with our little group of friends yelling one of his usua...