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Personal Narrative: It Was Halloween Again

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It was Halloween again. When I was an eight year old kid I lived in Lakewood, Washington with my little half-brother Torin and my big brother Erik. You see my father had died two months before I was born. I didn’t know him, but his name was Jordan. My mom was always off in Neverland. She always seemed preoccupied with something and she never had time for any of us. My big brother was only 11, but he had to take care of me and my little brother. He would go to the store to get groceries and he would feed us dinner. He was basically like a dad. My mom was usually drunk or happy. Most every night she would get drunk and then she would be a sick happy in the morning. It didn’t feel happy. It didn’t feel right. Something was off every morning.

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