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Personal Narrative: My Love For Writing

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My love for writing started when I was around ten years old. I was extremely shy growing up. I had friends but only a handful, I would rather be alone with a book or be working on a story. My writing was my escape from whatever was going on in my life whether it was my grandma being sick or getting in a fight with my older sister, all I needed was a notebook and a pen to write whatever I was feeling out. This lead to notebook upon notebook being filled with stories of the handsome prince saving the princess, or hopeful tales of a shy girl meeting her true love. I was in charge of my own little world and I could make anything and everything happen. As I grew older I kept writing, even though I had outgrown my shyness. I kept writing because …show more content…

I was in my English class, I was already finished with the days assignment . I checked the clock I noticed we still had over forty five mintues left in the class. So I pulled out my trusty notebook and set to work writing down a story that had been bouncing around in my head for the last couple of days. I put in my headphones and went into my writing zone. I was over half way done when the teacher noticed me, walking over to me, she asked what I was doing, when I told her I was working on a story she asked if she could read it, At this point my heart was pounding and my hands were shaking, but I trusted this teacher more than I trusted my best friend. Nodding I wordlessly hand my story over, she took it from my hands and went to her desk to read it. I was terrified the whole time she had it. What had I done? I was letting someone into my world, letting her read my deepest thoughts. It felt like hours but in reality was just only ten mintues, she called me to her desk, on shaky legs I walked the five feet from my chair to her desk, She told me that my story was one of the best she had read in her eight years as a teacher. My heart felt like it was going to explode. This woman was telling me out of the hundreds of kids she had, my simple little story was one of the best she had ever read? I thanked her, taking my story I headed back to my desk, all I could do was smile. I looked up to this woman and

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