Personal Narrative On The Catcher In The Rye

I entered my dorm room pretty early, excited by the amount of freedom given to me. It was empty with no trace of my roommate yet. Two black bed frames were located at the sides of the walls with a suitcase rack in between them. Mattresses were already prepared. Two desks and drawers were placed near the end of the beds, adjacent to each other. The walls were white with stray pieces of wallpaper. My roommate hadn’t come yet so I took the bed I wanted and placed my suitcase on the rack. I started arranging my bed, placing musty brown fitted sheets, off-white pillows, and faded blue blankets creating a mismatched design. I didn’t feel like doing much after that so I went around the campus the dorm and met some sophomores in the cafeteria.

As I

“I bet it’s yours. It seems to fit you. People say that a person’s personality is reflected in the items the person owns. Shabby suitcases for shabby people. Look at that suitcase. There are frays at the corners. I bet that suitcase is Holden’s. His family probably doesn’t care about him anymore. That’s why they sent him here.” He snickered, thinking his “joke” was funny. John rambles about those stupid suitcases. It’s annoying, irritating, and bothersome how you can judge someone from their suitcase, how someone can feed off the rumors and insults. But who am I to

I gave him the okay. This time, I hid my suitcase under my bed. This friend was usually soft-spoken and indifferent, but the minute he stepped in my room, his personality changed. It was the first time he saw a Mark Cross suitcase and he fawned over it. He goes on to repeat the same sentences as John followed the same snobbish accent as John and ending with the same pride as John. It was absolutely revolting. I learnt that he knew that I owned a Mark Cross suitcase because of a rumor. I forced that friend to go home right away.

I need a plan. My fingers were jittery, my brain was a mess, all I could think about was how can I escape from this situation safely. I was scared. My reputation was in danger because I lied. I lied and told a blabbermouth that I owned a Mark Cross suitcase. I had no idea on what to do. I stayed up that day, nervous for tomorrow. I trudged into my first class, but no one called me out, no one whispered or pointed at me. In fact, I think I got more popular. More classmates approached me, more people waved to me in the hallway, people invited me to parties, and I got asked out more