Personal Narrative: A Ghostly Home In Indiana

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The day arrived to move out of this ghostly home in Indiana and move on to a new location. I remember wearing shorts and a sleeveless top as we all squeezed in the back of the station wagon. I didn’t say goodbye to Pamela, she was working when we left. My dad pulled out across the yard cutting over onto the neighbor’s property using their wide long driveway as the flight road. I gazed back at the tiny white home that sit on nearly two acres of land, believing one day when I get back, I will dig up the treasure I buried. A tiny light blue plastic treasure chest I received from a box of Cracker Jacks; back then these gifts were pretty nice, it even open and closed snapping shut as a real treasure chest. I had to leave “a promise to return” behind.

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