My Nails-Personal Narrative

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Here I am eight years old with three inch long nails. As I get off the yellow school bus, I thank my friend who is three years older than I am and pretend to love my freshly done manicure. I am glad that she took the time to give me some attention and do my nails, but if only we had more time, she could have cut them down to a more reasonable and acceptable size. Then, I suddenly get a feeling of regret. I have got this lump in my throat and with just seconds away from my house, I begin to cry. One step left to climb and now it is time to open the loud, creaky screen door. I open it slowly hoping it does not make any noise. Luckily, the big door is already open and my parents are not in sight. I scurry over to the big blue chair in the back of the living room. I am scared of what is going to happen next, so I sit on the floor behind the chair hoping for some time to think of an excuse on why I am wearing glued on three inch fake nails. Time was not enough because here I am with no plan and they have found me. …show more content…

My parents are confused as to why I am crying and hiding behind the chair. That is because they have not seen my hands yet. My hands are glued shut underneath my lap. I start to get up slowly off the floor, continuing to hide my hands. My parents are guiding me to sit with them on the couch and express to them as to why I am feeling so down. All I could tell them in that moment was that I had a bad day at school and all I wanted was to be alone. Understandingly, they let me run off to my room. The rest of that day they did not bother me. They gave me what I wanted, which was time to myself and left me alone. It was not until dinner time that I saw them

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