Personal Narrative

I am stressed. Not just at one point, just simply all of the time. It is a part of my nature. When people yell, raise their voices or fight with one another it may as well be a full blown fist fight to my anxious heart. It is hard for me to be in close quarters with my family because they are rambunctious and stubborn people. They entertain themselves by play fighting and actually fighting on what seems to be an hourly basis.

For me, there are no closer quarters than a car, even a large car. My family trips are formulaic, like a classical song. Everything is silent the first few minutes, not a good silent though, it is oppressive. The only noise is road noise. Normally, this hush is due to my parents fighting about how to pack the car or my

Our destination, a quaint cabin in the western carolina mountains, was two and half hours away. It did not follow the formula of its predecessors. The ride up into the mountains was pleasant. There were few bumps but, the chaos never showed. To me it was serene and otherworldly how my family sat in an easy silence. Every once in a while we chatted until the conversation naturally faded into the hum of the road. Our four dogs switched quietly from person to person in the car, enjoying the view of the clouded mountains from all sides. Savanna only wailed once, it was half hearted at that. For the rest of the ride she slept inside a fortress of stuffed animals. I think it was different because we all wanted to see this cabin. There was not a reluctant soul en route with us. Trips in the past had all been to beach in the frigid off season, or the purpose behind them was not vacation oriented. It was special, all of us were at ease and eager. I do not think it hurt my dad’s attitude that I was helping to pay for the trip

It was not so much of a road as it was a hodge podge of gravel, red dirt and insidious potholes. The drive would rattle our car so bad the road noise sounded like a train going right by the window. It was thrilling to go back to a small but fun time and I already felt at home. The four of us all shouted at my dad to stop the car, because the owner said she would meet us. It was easy to get lost on the trail upwards. The woman who was in charge suddenly appeared through the dense mist in a bright yellow fisherman's raincoat right as we came to a crossroads. Her features were pronounced and gentle at the same time. Droplets clung to her hair and fell as she spoke to say her name. I did not think she was any older than my mom, it seemed more likely that she was younger. But, the deep smile lines made it hard to judge. I instantly liked her, she felt like an aunt I had met only once as a small child. Savanna was convinced she was Siri because of her accent. Her name was Tammy, as she spoke I noticed some of her words had a slight accent to them. I suspected it may have been German but, I have never heard before. The faintness of it reminded me of someone just coming back from a very long trip to a foreign country. We would later find out her husband is German. His accent was pronounced, melodious and tantalizing to my ears. His personality matched his voice. I could not