Personal Narrative Essay: Why Would I Buy A Car?

A couple years ago, on a spring morning, I awoke to a bothering thought. This thought to be if and how I would buy a vehicle when I received my driver's license. My sister was given my father's oldish vehicle when she turned sixteen and my father bought a used car to drive around. There was three vehicles in our household and not one could be for my use on a daily basis. A list of options scrolled in my head: my father would let me use his vehicle and ride with my mother each day, I would still ride the bus to school and use a vehicle when I needed to, share my sister's car, or buy my own vehicle. I wondered how on Earth I could afford a vehicle for myself and knew a busy schedule like mine would shape it extremely difficult to work. Talking with my parents about it, they had come to a decision. I needed to find a job and save up the money if I was going to have a vehicle, and I needed to have a vehicle to correlate with my schedule. This schedule involves band, choir, and an abundance of church activities, and this along with my parents' would not be an enjoyable experience.
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At the rate I was working, I would maybe earn $2500 by the end of the summer and I began to be upset. I would come home after work and tell my parents it was not going to be possible to buy a vehicle, even after working all summer break. The thought of finding a vehicle in my price range seemed to be fictitious. I would complain and even cry once in awhile about working though it was partly a result of being overtired. The feeling of the doubt by the lurking possibility of no reward appearing after the work I had put in surrounded me each day as I scanned my fingerprint to clock in. Each aisle, I swept before close and each pesky stare given to me by customers as I did the "manual labor" jobs accounted for the continuous uneasy feeling in my