To Kill A Mockingbird Personal Narrative

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I could barely keep myself from jumping out of my chair. I listened intently, noticing the pronunciation of each word as it danced out of my father’s mouth. “It was pitch black. I was only a year or two older than you, you know. And the forest… the forest was so dark. As we paddled through the water toward the floating black mass of the island, it became hard for me to tell where the water ended and the treeline began.” I felt my heart beating deep inside my chest and fought the urge to leap up and scream with excitement and fear. That was almost ten years ago. Growing up without a TV meant that my source of entertainment came often from stories that lived within my family. That particular one was the first my father had ever told us. It was about his first night sleeping outside as a twelve-year-old Boy Scout. He had packed his gear into a canoe with a friend of his and the two had set out to sleep on an island on the lake by the camp. As I listened to his dramatic retelling of the frigid and hair-raising night, I craved an adventure like this for myself. Soon after that night, I began …show more content…

The time spent there became more about meeting family friends and going to dinners. Almost four years passed before I returned to the memory of getting lost in those woods. It was a week before the start to my junior year of high school, and I was visiting my grandparents in Virginia. One morning, after a very early breakfast and a promise to return promptly, I walked outside toward the woods. I walked aimlessly, remembering the similar trips I used to make in the forest upstate. I saw a young kid, eager to dirty his hands with exploration of the tangible world. I was older now, and my summer had been spent exploring a possible career path by interning at a financial services firm. A sudden thought crept slowly into my mind, piecing itself together before my

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