Blog Post #8: Poverty

A Time I Panicked

One time, I had come home from Piano Lessons across the street, only to hear a thud of my mom slamming a broom on the floor. I asked what was going on, and in a split second, I saw my answer skitter under a blanket. I was honestly in shock and worry for mainly two reasons: 1. I do not like rats. 2. I do not like rats. Eventually my dad came home and was able to send it six feet under after my mom and I attempted and failed to do so. Everything mellowed out, but I still panic if I see anything skitter in front of me.

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