Personal Narrative Essay: The American Dream

It was the summer of 1944 a year that would change my life. The dream I was having was abruptly interrupted by the loud voice of my mom yelling “Amante wake up!” Today was the day we were moving from Venice Italy to the great city of New York. There had been many bombing throughout Italy and we decided to pack up and live the American dream. I had been waiting for this day for years I had seen pictures and heard about America’s beauty but I couldn’t wait to see it in real life. The whole Dinardo family was excited to go, including me and my little sister Angelina. Angelina was only 8 years old. We’re seven years apart. She had golden blonde hair the color of honey and freckles dotted across her face. My dad walked excitedly into my room telling me that

I quickly devoured it when I thought no one was looking. When I walked back to my cabin. My dad was sitting inside. Then when I went back in the cabin my dad scolded me and hit me for taking the bread, yelling furiously at me. You could have gotten us in lots of trouble he exclaimed. He then apologized and told me not to do it again. What have I come too I thought to myself.

It was a warm rainy June night the humidity was high which made it even harder to breathe on the crammed boat. My family was asleep on the constantly rocking boat suddenly the boat shook, but my family was still fast asleep. I couldn’t seem to fall asleep so I got up and stepped out on the cold wet steel boats upper deck to get some air. When I got outside I realized that it was pouring bucket sized rain. I saw increasingly large waves crash furiously against the lower deck. Hard water droplets pelted my face, I could taste the salt water in my mouth from the spray of the ocean. Suddenly A massive wave slammed hard against the ship and almost swallowed the boat. Wind gusts started kicking up. I held onto the rail grasping it as if it were my prized possession. Suddenly I was blown