Makaha Beach-Personal Narrative

I got a ride home from school just like any other ordinary day in October of 2013. It was more than two years ago but I still remember every unpleasant moment, starting from when I walked in the door. My sister, Kaitlyn, sat on the couch in our living room yelling at her phone, who I soon found out was my mom. This wasn’t surprising for me since they had been arguing all Summer due to our move to Hawaii in June. However, what came next would shock me and scar our relationship for several years to come. Kaitlyn hung up the phone and immediately went to her room. I walked in there and watched her as she took out her suitcase and started packing all her clothes. I was confused at first but soon realized what was happening. She was leaving.

So many emotions and thoughts flustered around in my head. Shock, consternation, anguish, heartache, and several other feelings built up in my chest that I could barely get a word out. Time slowed down as she haltingly took her steps out the door. During those scarce and limited seconds, memories of our summer together came flowing back up from the hollow depths of my brain. We both enjoyed continuous days on Makaha Beach at our vacation rental for three full months. Neither of us had made any friends yet and we only had each other. One night that carved its way into my long term memory and reappeared into my thoughts at this particular moment, was the evening we spent gazing at the stars. It was only us, no other surfers or spectators or boys could touch us, it was just me and Kaitlyn and the sky. We spent a lengthy amount of time searching for shooting stars and admiring the clearest night sky that either of us had ever seen. To make it even more perfect, we had the sound of the crashing waves and the soft, cold sand in between our toes. The smell of the salty water and the harmonious sounds of the ocean blended with the blue canvas and sparkly lights, creating one of the best memories of my time in Hawaii. My conscious evoked that vision as her hand turned the stridulous doorknob of our