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    Personal Story – Leaving Bermuda Essay

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    On a typical warm day in Bermuda, I walked home from my school, Somersfield Academy. I could smell the ocean breeze coming in from the North Shore, my favorite place on the island because there was always something to do there. I had almost arrived home when my brothers, Luke and George, came running down the road, looking upset, their favorite team lost the World Cup in football, I thought nothing of it and kept walking to the house. As I approached the main doors, I wondered where Karim, George’s best friend who had been staying with us for awhile, had gone.

    Stepping inside there had been a weird mood in the house, the friendly cleaning ladies, Grace and Joy, had even been acting strange. I went to my room to start my homework, as I entered, I saw a note on my bed, it read: Katie Girl, Come to my room please, we have something to tell you. Lots of love, Mummy Thinking nothing of the letter, I walked down the hallway passing Luke and George’s rooms, turning the corner and going to my parent’s room. I walked in and my Mum and Dad were sitting in two of the three chairs on the balcony. As I took a step outside, I realized that Mum was sad; Mum is rarely sad.

    The only thing I could think had been, what happened? Was it Karim? I sat down on the third chair, comfy and cold on my sun kissed legs. Dad looked to me then to Mum then back to me. Mum began to talk, “Your father has gotten the chance to have a promotion, this would mean moving to the United States of America. We wanted to make sure it was alright with you and your brothers before making any big decisions. If you kids agree to move, we will be leaving urgently. ” I took a minute to process what I just heard and what I would say in response.

    I told them I would be fine with moving actually, complete lie. I knew how much this meant to my Dad and I just had to deal with it. This explained everything that had been weird today, Luke and George being so down, Karim’s absence and the cleaning ladies weird moods. We decided to move. We, the Dragonettes, were leaving Bermuda, the country I had been born and raised in, to live in America. We were due to go to our summer house in Maine in three days. After the summer in Maine we would move to Boston, a city bigger than any other I had been to.

    These were my last three days living in the only country I had ever lived in. I wanted to be happy for my dad and his promotion but all I could think about and see were the faces of my friends and family in Bermuda. Packing flew by. Two days passed; I was leaving the next day. That night I ate dinner with my family, my cousins, the Wolves, the Despins, and the Kusicks, like we did every Sunday. It was an upsetting, but awesome last night. Waking up, the girl who never had a bad day, had been well aware that this day would not be fun.

    We had been up early, our flight left at 12 but we had to be at the airport at 9. The clock read 8:30, I wasn’t ready to leave my life behind. Before we left Luke, George and I met at the dock and each found shells that we would keep forever in memory of Bermuda. Walking back up to the driveway we passed the orchard; I took my last loquat, a fruit only grown in Bermuda, for the ride to the airport. Luke and George each took a loquat, as well. In the car we passed the Aquarium, Horseshoe Bay, Grotto Bay, Somersfield Academy and every place I had grown up in.

    I finished my loquat fast. Luke and George were still eating while I was wishing I had slowed down. Just as I sucked on the pit of my loquat for any flavor, Luke pulled a loquat out of his pocket and quietly said, “I knew this would happen” other than that, the car was silent. I continued onto my second loquat and clenched my shell. We arrived to the airport fast, too fast. I wasn’t ready to move. After three hours of customs, security and sitting and waiting, the plane was ready to board. We walked outside and proceeded towards our plane.

    It was a hot day, my kind of weather. We came to the plane and lined up to board. I entered the steps going up one by one counting, there were 14. The roar of the engine screamed louder than life. At the top of the stairs, I took my first step onto the plane. My last step as a Bermudian citizen, my first step into a new chapter. We took our seats; I sat in between George and Luke. Luke leaned on me as I leaned on George and we watched Bermuda pass by our very eyes. Bermuda disappeared and so did everything we ever knew.

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    Personal Story – Leaving Bermuda Essay. (2018, Aug 13). Retrieved from https://artscolumbia.org/personal-story-leaving-bermuda-55925/

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