Moving To My Family: Personal Narrative

Frightened. Nervous. Scared. Upset. The words which filled my head when my parents gave me the news that our family was moving. It was the end of my seventh-grade school year, 2014.
On the afternoon of that hectic day, I sat on my bed crying as I thought about all the possibilities of what could happen to me. Would I have any friends? Would I be a different person? What would happen with my life? All I could think about is how this move was going to impact my life. I didn’t want to move to another county. Ever since I was a baby, I had lived in Newnan, Georgia where I grew up with the same people for nine years. I just knew I was about to become a loner.
It was my last day, I walked in with a frown on my face. As I walked into my Language

As I sat there for two days, I wondered what the house was going to look like, what the neighbors would be like, and how the schools were. I never had to think of these things before. Two days later, my parents came and picked me up. On the way to my new home, my parents explained that it was not like the house we previously lived in. That statement scared me because I did not want to live in a smaller house nor did I want to share a room with either of my sisters. When we arrived, I ran inside to find my room. As I walked down the hallway, my parents had already marked the biggest room as mine. They knew how picky I

Walking down the hallways, I was terrified. People looked at me funny. I walked into the gym and up the stairs where my grade sat. Walking up, trying not to trip, I heard someone say, “Oh look we have a new girl.” I never thought I was going to be the new person. No one talked to me, and they all looked at me like, “who does she think she is?” This was a substantial change for me. I walked to first period and sat at the desk closest by the door. I sat quietly and did not talk to anyone. I just knew that this was not the place for me. The environment was not what I was used to, and neither were the