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Writer's pictureArianna

2nd Personal Narrative Draft

Arianna Gaudette

Mat Wenzel

ENC 2135

July 28th, 2019

A Brand New Community

“Can I pet your cat?” asked a four year old girl as I hold my fluffy, 25 pound cat in my hands, walking through the TSA security line. Logan Airport in Boston, Massachusetts was somewhere I never expected my cat and I to experience together. My beast of a companion clung on to me for dear life in utter anxiety. The truth was, I was just as nervous as he was. I turned around and saw my dad fading into the crowds of people traveling as he shed a few tears with a somber wave goodbye. What had happened was my mother had a mid- life crisis, and decided to move us from quaint little Mont Vernon, New Hampshire to overpopulated South Florida. I was so settled as a country girl. I had all my friends, my clubs, my life. Everything seemed so comfortable. Mountains and small town drama is all I ever knew. And there I was getting ripped away from everything I had ever known. My cat, Micio (pronounced mee-cho), felt the same way. We were embarking on this journey together. As we were loaded onto the plane, my phone was flooded with Snapchats and texts from the girls on my basketball team, my piano camp, and my best friends. We were all in so much shock that this day had finally come. The surreal day of the beginning of the next chapter in my life.

The scariest part of moving for me was getting snipped away from my identity in New Hampshire. Who would I become? Would I change? What if I turn into the type of person I used to despise? I knew I would make friends, but I didn't want to change who I was. I wanted to still be the same athletic, trustworthy, and wholesome person I knew I was. I was once a well rounded athlete with tons of friends and connections, now a girl that nobody even knew her name. My school in Mont Vernon had only 14 kids in my grade, and now I was about to start high school with over 3,000 kids in a fancy city called “Boca Raton.” The only fancy thing in Mont Vernon were the brown cows. I stared out the window as the plane lifted us off into the sky, into a new world for Micio and I. I just remember petting him and whispering, “it'll be okay.” After a flight of Vance Joy on repeat and cat cuddles, it was time to step off the plane and into our new reality. I hadn't seen my mom in months, and there she was waiting at the baggage claim with eyes full of wet, joyful tears. I was handed off from one sappy parent and off to the next. The only thing separating them was 1,500 miles. “Ciao amore mio!” my jubilant Italian mother says as she kisses my forehead and takes Micio’s carry case from my hand. “On to bigger and better things!” she exclaimed, and boy was she right. I moved to Florida just two days before school was about to start. That left me with no time to even think or come up with a game plan about how I was going to carry my name. On the first day of school, it was wild. It was August 16th, and I had to ride the bus to get to school, all by myself. I got onto the bus and was shocked with the amount of students there were. To my suprise, the school was even busier. As I walked in the school, thousands of kids hugged and smiled at each other asking how their summer went. And there I was, timid, knowing not a single soul. With overwhelming anxiety, I just constantly refreshed my Snapchat because I did not know what to do. I was greeted by my counselor, Mr. Wasserman, with a great big goofy smile saying “Welcome to Boca High!” as I got bumped by at least three other kids. It was almost as crowded as Standard on a Thursday night. As the morning bell rang for my first class, the weight of the world fell on me. My panic ridden body had no clue what to do, or where to go. For the first time I was lost in a place that I have never been to before. For the first time I didn't know where I was. For the first time I had no friends, I had not even a familiar face. I was alone in a courtyard of three thousand people. I was wondering how Mr. Wasserman found me, or even knew who I was, but I am forever thankful because he had been waiting for me with company. Next to him, a spiky-haired, short asian man stared at me with eagerness. “Arianna, this is coach Nhu, our girls basketball coach.” My heart began to flutter, and my eyes opened with inspiration. How did he know I played basketball? How did he know I would be getting off of this bus? I was so shocked but so pleased all at the same time. Coach Nhu put out his hand, and I gratefully shook it, as it was a brand new start for me afterall.

Later that year, I was in head over heels. I became a member of a team, a friend group, and most importantly a family. I was apart of something amazing. That year my basketball team and I traveled the country playing the sport I love. We found ourselves playing on the Orlando Magic’s basketball court in Orlando, making layups in Atlanta, Georgia, even proceeding to a playoff game in Washington, D.C. I became apart of something amazing. We ended up winning the state championship title that year, beating countless teams throughout Florida. I ended up making some of my best friends because of this team, people and experiences that I would have never had back home. I even got a ring with my name and number engraved on it. After that first scary day of school, my fresh start was pretty fresh. When I got off the bus from school that day, my eager mom hugged me. “Do you think you like it here?” she asked. I looked over at Micio as he sunbathed on the window. “I think it'll be okay.” I replied with a smile.

Word count: 1,066

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