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Autobiographical Narrative
       When I think about my childhood household, a few bold memories come to mind. One that I find very significant occurred one warm summer evening a few years ago when I lived in a two story house and my lovely golden retriever was still alive.
       I was about seven, lounging on my parents’ bed and watching SpongeBob have his nautical adventures. I had a small cup of lemon-lime, knock-off   Dip’n’ Dots that I had obtained from an ice cream truck a few minutes prior. Things were peachy. Well, all was peachy except maybe one thing. My little brain thought that it’d be a great idea to set the experience of walking on the roof as my summer goal. After pestering my mother all summer, watching her tone get more annoyed as the days got hotter, I had not succeeded.
     Throwing caution to the wind, I got up, set down my ice cream, and slowly began walking to the small window that led to the roof. My heart started beating faster and faster as I unlatched the window and lifted it up over my head. At that point, the only thing going through my mind was my mother’s voice warning me how dangerous it was or how I could possibly fall and hurt myself. Despite this, I still proceeded to climb onto the windowsill and sprawl out onto the rough red gravel of the platform roof. I crawled closer to the edge of the roof – I didn't even walk--and then sat down and looked about my neighborhood. I was so rebellious.
     I sat up there for quite a while, breathing in the fresh summer air and admiring the setting sun upon my street. I watched some neighborhood kids play with a bright red ball. Their laughter and the slight rustling of the leaves on the trees filled the air. I felt at peace, until I heard the quiet tinkling of my dog’s collar as he entered the room. I slowly turned towards the open window and saw him smiling up at me with his front paws up on the windowsill.
Before I could stop him, he jumped up onto the roof and charged towards the edge. Then, I suppose he realized it was a bad idea because as he got closer to the edge he tried stopping himself, but it was too late. He began to skid off. Then, as if it were in slow motion, he extended his front paws and pushed off the roof with his hind legs. He leaped into the air looking like a doggy Super-man. My breath hitched when I heard him land on our Ford expedition a few moments later, but then I saw a bolt of gold run out across the lawn to chase a small girl with pony tails. I was flooded with relief and I realized my mom was right. It was entirely possible for someone to fall off the roof.