My Mouse

Yay! I figured out how to add a post!     This is not the first time I've written a personal narrative essay. However, the last time I wrote one, four years ago, I did know what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. This time, I am confused. My little mouse sits on my dresser next to a BSU gnome and a BSU penguin. I have a picture of my family, a Hobbit calendar, and Doctor Who posters, and my little yellow mouse. And I don't remember anything about her. When I was packing for college, going through all of my things, she automatically went in the College pile, but I don't know why. I don't remember where she came from: I think my grandma gave her to me, but she doesn't remember it. I don't know why I decided to bring her, and I don't know what she means to me. The only story I have of her is when I packed and unpacked when moving to college. My mom pulled her out of a box and scoffed. I defended my little purposeless mouse. Writing this essay might be a purposeless exercise, simply because there is nothing to find in my mouse, but on the other hand, she could mean something important. It will be fun to figure it out.