Thursday, January 23, 2020
Personal Narrative - Driving Test :: Personal Narrative Essays
Personal Narrative- Driving Test As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself. Sure enough, after a short period of being in the car, the questions began. "Honey, how could we have miscalculated six months? My frustrated reply to every question was, "I don't know!" Maybe this was a sign I was going to fail. I could only imagine how my brother and sister were going to make me feel. They had teased me about studying so hard for the permit test. Now here I was, not actual failing the drivers test, but failing to go on the correct day. Exactly one month later, all of the fears that happened in the past were returning. Was I going to fail? Was I going to get the same, strict instructor? As I slide out of the car and slowly shut the door, I could only hope that the same person wouldn't be there when I attempted to take my driving test last time. With that thought running through my head, my brain was in overdrive. All the wheels were turning as fast as they possibly could. I tried to zone out the negative stories I heard by telling myself, "I can do this. I just drove through town on a practice run and I did perfectly fine." Of course, the fear of failure kept popping in my head and I couldn't get rid of it.Sluggishly, I made my way to the entrance of the courthouse. As I reached for the door, I let out a sigh of worry. I moseyed down the stairs trying to stall as long as possible. All that I could picture was the instructor with dark, slanted eyebrows that made a wrinkle between his two critical eyes.
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