Finding out that I was going back to Aruba at the age of twelve was a Déjà vu for me. When I was seven in 2004, my grandparents took me and nine other relatives to Aruba for the first time. All of us went snorkeling, saw lizards and iguanas, had strawberry daiquiris, saw the natural bridge, and etc. Going back to Aruba I thought the memories would happen all over again. Flash forward to our arrival at the resort. Nine other relatives and my grandparents weren’t with me. Instead I now had my five-year-old brother, three-year-old sister, step dad and mom with me. At our resort we were informed that we would be on the second floor due to the first floor being flooded. I didn’t mind this for any fact other than the waiting time.
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