Personal Narrative: How I Impressed With My Writing

I was called by my teacher today. I knew that he was impressed with my writing before and so had a relieving kind of feeling, but that all went away when I saw him. The facial expression of disappointment made itself clear. He started by telling how my paper was too good that it was impossible for this much improvement to happen. He tells me that I cheated or copied someone else’s paper. I was full of anger and the racism feeling I usually get from him became stronger, for if I was one of the 2 comma students that would have not have happened. Having someone tell you cheated hurts especially when that thing you did was what you love. He tells me that the only way to show that I am that good was to write my next paper in his office.

I went