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Personal Narrative: Privacy Fence

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Personal Narrative: Privacy Fence
Up and down, up and down, my paintbrush went, rubbing along the fence in my backyard. Making the white paint thicker and more distinct streak after streak. I remember hating myself for doing whatever I did to deserve this grueling work. Every time I stood in front of the fence separating my neighbors house from mine, I regretted the bad decisions I had made earlier that year. The way it felt wasting my summers away painting that privacy fence was something that I look back on in sorrow. Throughout elementary school every time time my siblings or the neighborhood kids and I did something that deserved a punishment we would get a strike. Strikes came with an hour of painting that horrible privacy fence. With the strikes, came embarrassment
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