Personal Narrative: Creative Writing: Traveling About The Perfect Life

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He shakes his head. "No one knows. It was nice to let it out though. Your story differs from mine. At least you had a family. I never did." "I had a rich family. We lived in a big mansion, had a pool, many fancy cars, I went to a pristine private school, I--" I said before he cut me off. "Stop blabbing about your perfect life!" He yells slightly annoyed at me. "My once perfect life. My life is the complete opposite now," I imply. He rolls his eyes. "At least you had a perfect life. I 've never had anything. They give you old donated clothes that were some times too big or too small and you dealt with it." I sigh and stop sweeping. Looking over him. Winters approaching, he won 't last long in this frigid weather. It was hard when I had…show more content…
"Well, throughout the 11 months of being homeless I did apply for jobs, I got nothing back because there was no way to contact me. So I found a couple of places where you fill out the form and they will interview you right then and there. I did a couple of those and the same questions they always asked me was 'Why didn 't you put down an address? ' or 'why don 't you have any contact info or references? ' I couldn 't tell them the real reason. If they knew I wouldn 't get the job. I told them that my parents and sisters died in a horrible accident hoping that would get me a job, but it didn 't. So I lied and said I moved into a new house a couple of days ago and haven 't remembered the address yet. They didn 't believe me and told me no right away. I kept looking until I got here, it was one of those we 'll interview you now situations. I went in expecting to not get the job and again the same questions came up. After being asked those questions so many times and not answering them and always being told no, I told her everything, much like I told you. At first she didn 't say anything and I knew I had screwed myself of getting this job, but as I was about to leave, she said, 'the job is yours.…show more content…
"Why did she give it to you?" "Because I was the last person to get interviewed that day, and she said out of everyone I have talked to today I believe and feel as if you would be the hardest worker out of anyone else out there. And I am, I once had everything and am now working to make ends meet so I would work hard and get my butt off the dangerous raw streets. I didn 't like living out there," I told him, honestly spilling everything to him. He sat there, frozen in his place again, taking in everything I had said. "How much do you get paid?" He spat out quickly. "£10, plus tips," I tell him. "How did your parents die? If you don 't mind me asking," he mumbles chewing on his lower lip. I shake my head. "I don 't like to talk about it, no one knows really." He nods, awkwardly sitting in silence a moment before he spoke up. "Where do you live and how did you get it and where did you stay while you were getting money?" He demands the questions being thrown at me. "I now live in an apartment. I recently saved up enough money to buy one. Amy let me stay with her until I had enough saved up," I grin fondly at how accepting she
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