Moving Day

Jordan Cashe
English 1101, Morton
Narrative Essay
23 September 2003
Moving Day
Before I went to bed the day after my fourth birthday, my mother told me to clean my room extra good because there were people coming to look at the house tomorrow. I asked her why people were coming to look at our house, was there something wrong with it? My father told me not to question my mom, and to go do what she says. My friends and I had played a game of hide and seek the day before, and there was quite an array of toys and what not strewn about the room. I looked around and not one square inch of the floor was visible. Multi-colored alphabet blocks, my ninja turtle collection, Tonka trucks with stones and sand from the backyard, and just about every present given to me with the wrapping paper balled up next to the empty boxes took up the entire room. So I pushed all I could under my bed, and the rest went in the closet.
When I woke up the next morning, I could hear voices from the ...