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Personal Narrative: Home

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The distinct, salty smell of the Atlantic Ocean smacked me right in the face as I stepped out my father's truck onto the sandy earth. Shortly across the North Carolina border, is a small island called Ocean Isle. Our family was given the opportunity to stay at a three-story beach house for a week, and we took it. I can recall feeling the excitement building inside of me as I looked up at the giant house in front of me. This building is what I'd be calling home for the next week. I was not prepared for the crazy memories I was going to make in that short amount of time.
The first day there, we went straight to the beach by taking our golf cart that came with the house. My brother, little sister and I swam for 3 or more hours. Meanwhile, my

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