Personal Narrative

Words: 1102
Pages: 5

My dad wasn’t in the picture pretty much my whole childhood. Even when I was born, he wasn’t there, neither for me nor my mom. It was a tough time trying to get him out of my head and with my mom thinking she’s the reason that he doesn’t want to come and visit me. Then the years passed and I just turned 10 years old; it was just me, my mom and my brother. We were all living together in a house in Desoto and my mom told me and my brother to get dressed so that we could do something for my birthday. I remember the exact outfit I was wearing: my white long-sleeve shirt, with a brown vest with a fur hood on it, blue jeans, and my long brown boots. While my brother and I were getting ready, we heard the doorbell ring but I wasn’t worried about it because I was too young to answer the door anyway. Then my mom said “Karimah, can you come here?” I came around the corner from upstairs and that was when my mom said “Karimah, this is your dad.”