Personal Narrative: When I Hit The Fake Deer

When i take a step out of my grandpas house and i look at the drive way, memory’s shoot through me. This is where i learned how to ride my first bike, when my brother was there with me and we would race up and down the driveway. I look off to the side and see the tree, that's where we put up a target and shot at it with a bow, the first time i pulled back a string and released an arrow into the air and watch it hit the fake deer. I start feeling this excitement because it actually hit the fake deer and i jumped and yelled “I hit the deer.” I turned back to see my brother with smile and he looked right back at me and said “We would have to go shoot a real deer next time.” and we kept on practicing. I look forward again, this time i was older. This is the time where i started to leave the driveway with my bike but with my brother, right behind him watching every move he does so i could keep up. Sometimes we would go father and i thought it was coolest thing ever when i seen different trees with different colors. When i seen people out of there house watering their garden or just having a barbeque. I would always smile and wave at them and they would wave back. I would see different things in people's yards and sometimes i would stop just to gaze at it for a long time. I push muscle threw the pedal and i'd catch up to my brother because i was

When random people asked me how much a dozen and i responded “7 dollars” and i sold sweet corn. I looked behind me and my grandpa smiled and waved at me and did a thumbs up. I’d stay out there til it was lunch time or when i needed to be picked up. It was just a part of being in the real world that got me excited, when i could shake others hands and tell them to have a good day. When i knew that the corn i sold grew on quality soil and was quality handled and always knew what the people bought was healthy for