It was moving time. My family and I were going to move to a new house, but I wanted to stay at the old house at the time I was six years old. “I’m not going” I told my parents over and over again but they didn’t listen. I pleaded and begged until finally they said they were going to leave without me. I saw them get into the car; I still wasn’t going to go, my Dad started the engine, but I still stood at the door waiting. He then closed the door backed out of the driveway and drove off. I was surprised that they actually left without me. When the car had gone out of sight I closed the door and went back inside. I was all alone nobody was in the house but me. I looked in the refrigerator which was almost empty and grabbed the peanut butter then I grabbed the last slice of bread and began making a sandwich. When my parents came home they saw me throwing a temper tantrum, but it wasn’t because they left me it was because I couldn’t find any jelly to finish making my sandwich.