Personal Narrative: Moving From North Carolina To California
Moving is hard, especially when you go from North Carolina to California. My mom said i’ll be alright so did my brother but now I don't know. I heard great things about Pescadero, California like how few tourist are there, the open beaches and hiking spot. But isn’t that what all apartments say to get you to pack and come running to “The Golden State”. All I can think about is turning back and running to Mama’s arm and crying on my annoying brother Luther’s shoulder.
But being approximately 7.5 miles above ground in a metal box there's really no place to go except the bathroom, and you don’t really want to go there. I guess all I can do now is wait, and pray that I will make it to the sunny state of California without dying on a plane. I mean seriously how do these things fly. …show more content…
He looked around 20 tall and built, dark black hair, and eyes that are a shade lighter than his hair. His smile is crooked and promises danger. “You know there is a 0.00001% you’ll die on a plane crash so stop being scared.” The strange man said.
“How did you know I was scared?” I questioned him, I haven’t been shaking or cowering in my seat. “I know what everybody is afraid will kill them is.” The man says roughly rubbing his hand on his stubble. I huffed he was right. “What are you a psychic?” I asked with clear annoyance in my voice. The man gave a choked laugh.
“No but I can tell you how you'll die.” I expected him to have a cocky smile at how stupid I’d be if I believed him. But no he looked serious. I just rolled my eyes I am sitting next to a psychopath, a complete mental
But being approximately 7.5 miles above ground in a metal box there's really no place to go except the bathroom, and you don’t really want to go there. I guess all I can do now is wait, and pray that I will make it to the sunny state of California without dying on a plane. I mean seriously how do these things fly. …show more content…
He looked around 20 tall and built, dark black hair, and eyes that are a shade lighter than his hair. His smile is crooked and promises danger. “You know there is a 0.00001% you’ll die on a plane crash so stop being scared.” The strange man said.
“How did you know I was scared?” I questioned him, I haven’t been shaking or cowering in my seat. “I know what everybody is afraid will kill them is.” The man says roughly rubbing his hand on his stubble. I huffed he was right. “What are you a psychic?” I asked with clear annoyance in my voice. The man gave a choked laugh.
“No but I can tell you how you'll die.” I expected him to have a cocky smile at how stupid I’d be if I believed him. But no he looked serious. I just rolled my eyes I am sitting next to a psychopath, a complete mental