Personal Narrative Analysis

It was a cold, snowy night in West Michigan. The dawn fast approaching, no. This was not romantic, this was not beautiful, this was a hot mess with my mom screaming in the back seat of a car. This was my dad freaking out. This was my parents, rushing my older brother to my grand mothers house on the way to the hospital. This was December 9th, at 6:34 am, 1998, in the middle of a blizzard. My mom always told me that she knew I was going to be strong, because I stirred the winds and threw blankets of snow with my arrival. My father on the other hand, was not so deep when coming up with a name to match this blizzard causing phenomenon, his thought process fell out of his mouth and went a little like this “Find a cool name that starts with R,because …show more content…
If we fast forward to Thanksgiving break, I had just been coasting, everything was great. Now if you can picture Usain Bolt breaking the world record, reality hit me faster than that. There had been this weird family vibe going on that I chose to ignore, no one was really talking or interacting with each other. We were just four people sharing a house. It wasn't until the day after Thanksgiving that I learned what was going on. My mom and dad sat me down, and I could tell immediately that this was not going to be good. I don't remember anything from that conversation except the words “Gone”,”Years”,”Wrong place”,”Court” ,”Prison”and “Sorry”. I wasn't crying, I was staring at a family photograph hanging on the wall. My father was trying to explain what had happened, but I wasn't having it, I stood up,walked to my room calmly, and locked the door. I stayed there for 5 days. I didn't speak, only came out for the necessities, and went a little insane. My father went to prison the next week or so. I've was never fully told why, or cared to look, because he was still my dad. The only things I have gathered it that he was not fully involved with some type of “White collar crime”. At first I refused to speak to him, that went on for six months and I finally accepted his call. He did you what you would expect, he said sorry, this and that. I didn't care too much. I chose to move out of our family home, it was too painful to be surrounded by things that were so close to being him. I moved in with grandparents, this was the first huge decision that i had to make.This was all up to me. My mother was understanding, and left it to me to fully decide, she never pushed me. I grew up very fast in the next year and a half.

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