Personal Narrative Essay: The Kite Runner

I sat in my office, looking over the blueprints of my soon to be Orphanage, quietly sipping a glass of brandy. I heard what could only be Amir and Hassan enter the house. They had won the Kite competition, I could not help but feel a small sense of pride for Amir as he handed me the Kite. I embraced Amir and congratulated him. Hassan however, walked away without saying a word. I thought about the fear I held for that boy, his origin would no doubt only bring problems in the future. Amir seemed to hold tight onto me as if he needed support. This situation was very peculiar, this should've be a celebration! Amir, as of late, had shown significant progress in his development towards maturity. While he may never have the thick skin I had hoped for him. Adulthood may not be as troubling for him as once feared. Yet the pride I show in Amir only fills me with shame as I fail to do so for Hassan. He is my son, no more than

I recited his impressive feat of winning the kite runner competition. Might I have exaggerated slightly? Probably, but then again, who doesn't love a good story. Later on in the party I met Assef's parents, and they were the same respectful and pleasant people that I’ve always known, and their son! Aseef was well mannered and entertaining. Aseef, the adults, and I conversed for a while until I motioned over Amir so that he could talk to someone his age, Aseef was very happy to see Amir and asked how Hassan was, to which he only replied “fine”, Aseef attempted to continue the conversation but Amir would not look him in the eye and only gave short, disinterested answers... maybe I overestimated their friendship. He then thanked Asseef for the gift and walked away. I apologized for his abruptness and said that he may not be enjoying the large party size as it may be too much for him to handle. Asseef smiled gently, laughed, and told me not to