Story

I wrote my first draft of my personal narrative on a very personal subject. It’s secret in fact. I believe the guideline for the papers were to write a narrative in which some character learns a lesson. I know see that I need to revise my paper a bit to make a lesson learned more clear.
I learned never to eavesdrop. Because when I was younger I eavesdropped on a personal conversation between the older women in my family I now have this burden to bear. I cannot tell anyone because, this secret is so locked away in the very structure of our family; it is as if it never occurred. And, if it never occurred, then I could not of possible have over heard the most shocking news six year old ears could absorb. I rift in time, that’s what it would be, a mere blip in my memory.
Then why even try and get it off of my chest. That’s a simple enough, because this secret only holds weight in my family. And, you are not my family I can tell you and you wont judge, and point the finger of judgment towards the nosey child. You can listen with an unweighted heart, to the story of how sneaking from bed for a few more moments of m wakened glory turns horribly into the story of an anvil on my heart.