San Fransco Bay-Personal Narrative

As I was contemplating my first move to resolve the situation, I knew that I would need an adult ally to achieve my purpose. My mother would have to be that person. We spent the first night of the trip in a motel in Donner, CA. The next day we continued our journey to the San Fransico Bay area, where my father had secured a job working for the railroad. The first two days in California we stayed in a nice motel, and it even had a swimming pool. My father stopped at a store and bought me a plastic model to keep me entertained because I had no friends and nothing to do. It was at that point when everything began to unravel. The job that lured father to transfer from Pueblo to work in the Bay area no longer existed. Furthermore, he …show more content…
He then found a part-time job, setting pins at a bowling alley at night. The first day at that place, I decided to go look around, having nothing else to do. As I was walking down the hall, some older guy, possibly in his fifties, tried to pull me from the hall into his room. I scrambled out of his hands ran to my room, and advised my mom of the danger. My father was at work; my mother and I were there alone. She tried to lock the door, but it was defective. She took a wooden chair and propped it under the door knob so no one could enter the room. During the night it seemed to me like the door was rattled all night long, with someone trying to open it. I calmed myself down, assuming they were drunk, and they sought to enter the wrong room. We had to stay another night because my father had paid for two nights. As a consequence, I did not go outside that door for the remainder of the time I was there. I was trapped in a nightmare; why can I not wake up.? I want to awake and go to the movies with my …show more content…
For example, I had no television, radio, or telephone. Furthermore, I did not even have an address to reconnect with my friends via the U.S. Mail. In other words, I might as well have been on a deserted island. We were not allowed to use the motel office address due to insurance regulations. The motel was considered temporary housing, defined as staying for only a limited time.
My mother shared some information with me that was new found hope. My father had learned he could obtain a general delivery address at the local post office. He needed to have an address if he was to receive the check from the sale of the house in Pueblo. I immediately headed to the motel office for stationery supplies. I asked for paper, pencils, and envelopes. I was going to be able to communicate with my girlfriend, whose memories and thoughts of returning to her gave me renewed strength to survive. In a word