Eight Five Narrative

From Five Zero Four to Nine Eight Five As I laid down a long piece of masking tape on the last moving box, I thought back on my life living in New Orleans that was focused mainly around my friends. I though back to myself about all the lies I had told my parents about where I would be in the large, drunken, crime-filled city. Every morning I would rapidly throw the heavy, soft, fur blanket off over my body while a sharp nasally pitched voice was yelling, “Raegan! Get your lazy butt out of that bed!” I was not one the best of teens who live in New Orleans, however, I was not the worst. I had thought about the bad things I was recently getting into before I had moved; things that were not meant for people my age, but a lot older. I came out
We drove over the tall, intense swells of Lake Pontchartrain on the longest bridge in the United States, to get to our new humble abode in Madisonville, LA. As we pulled into our new subdivision filled with forest, wildlife, and ponds, I began to think of all the new and excited possibilities I had in store for me. My new house was an updated, beige stucco, one story with a bonus room above the garage. The bonus room was my new room; painted light, sky blue with one big window on the wall and the roof going to a point at the top. I had customized my new room to make it fit my outgoing, bright personality with printed pictures of my friends and I and white sparkling Christmas lights on the left wall and my initials in wood on the right wall. The downstairs is spacious with a black tile fireplace in the left hand corner of the living room which ran into the black granite kitchen. There was two bedrooms facing each other with a bathroom in the middle of them on the right side of my house. On the left side of the house was my parents cozy bedroom across from the soft beige carpet stairs leading up to my room. I knew from the point of unloading the boxes that this was a start to a brand new life in the nine eight
It was about to be a new year so my family decided to invite our neighbors over to our house for a new year's eve party. The night of the party arose and the neighbors were starting to enter through the black door covered in glass welcoming us into the neighborhood. As I was meeting my new neighbors, I met a boy that lived straight across the street from me in the one story, tan stucco house with the blue shutters. The boy’s name was Shawn. Shawn had dark brown hair with tan, olive skin. His eyes were deep brown, that I found myself mesmerized by, falling into them as I found myself falling for him. There was not an awkward moment at all that between us that night, we talked for hours as we watched the orange and pink sun rise. The following day we hung out all day and from them I had made my first friend on the northshore. Shawn had sarcastic, upbeat attitude just like me. It was like Shawn and I were the same person. We got along perfectly, however, sometimes we had our moments, but who didn’t? Shawn taught me how to have fun without doing the bad things I would have been doing living in New Orleans. With Shawn as my best friend we were always having fun and staying out of trouble. Six months into our friendship Shawn told me he had stronger feelings for me other than just friends. During that summer, Shawn asked me to be his girlfriend. I have never had a boyfriend before so Shawn would be the first one.