Personal Narrative: The Alamo Dome
“I’ll wait here,” I said, looking at the large, familiar building in the distance. “I’ll feel better if he doesn’t wait here by himself.” My mom nodded and started driving Ms. Lara, her co-worker back to her car at the Alamo Dome. I could think of many other times that Sam, my brother, had gotten lost. Sure, most of the times I had found him at a neighbor’s house, but Sam had a bad habit of not telling people where he had gone. It never worried me because we always found my brother in the end, but I considered it highly vexing to have to knock on ten doors each day just to call Sam home for dinner. My mother frequently reprimanded him for this, but he never stopped. The whole ordeal began as a simple misunderstanding. One Tuesday
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I would never find him by frantically overturning every stone I saw. I began to think. I knew my brother like the back of my hand. Everything he did reflected my younger self’s actions. I had a sudden feeling that I should look around, but I didn’t know what for. I turned around, and I saw it. The large familiar building loomed in the distance: The Alamo Dome. It made sense, Sam ‘s predictability never failed. I ran back to my mother, eager to share my hypothesis, when she greeted me with equally good news. The Alamo Dome security had called her, Sam had made his way to my mom’s work and had patiently waited there for our arrival. The Lord had delivered. My mom and I walked back to the car and drove to the Alamo Dome. Sure enough, we found Sam there. He gave an explanation that I still don’t understand. “I thought you guys had left, so I walked back to the Alamo Dome,” he said. That didn’t make sense. I stayed back at Sunset Station for that very reason. We never left without him. I voiced my protests, but eventually I stopped talking. No one could give me an adequate answer. My mother turned the radio up, her usual response for tension in the car. We drove home in silence. Soon, my anger with Sam faded into relief at having him
I would never find him by frantically overturning every stone I saw. I began to think. I knew my brother like the back of my hand. Everything he did reflected my younger self’s actions. I had a sudden feeling that I should look around, but I didn’t know what for. I turned around, and I saw it. The large familiar building loomed in the distance: The Alamo Dome. It made sense, Sam ‘s predictability never failed. I ran back to my mother, eager to share my hypothesis, when she greeted me with equally good news. The Alamo Dome security had called her, Sam had made his way to my mom’s work and had patiently waited there for our arrival. The Lord had delivered. My mom and I walked back to the car and drove to the Alamo Dome. Sure enough, we found Sam there. He gave an explanation that I still don’t understand. “I thought you guys had left, so I walked back to the Alamo Dome,” he said. That didn’t make sense. I stayed back at Sunset Station for that very reason. We never left without him. I voiced my protests, but eventually I stopped talking. No one could give me an adequate answer. My mother turned the radio up, her usual response for tension in the car. We drove home in silence. Soon, my anger with Sam faded into relief at having him