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2010-08-02 11:11:36 UTC
Well here it is:
I woke up to the Long Island sun shining brightly in my pale emerald eyes. I used my arms to pull myself up and take the green covers off me. Gazing out the window, I could see Mrs. Lee walking her toy poodle, Snowball, and the corner store where Mr. Jenkins would give Angela and I free ice creams. I looked up on the top bunk to see if Angela was awake. Her eyelids were sealed shut.
“Angela,” I quietly whispered as I softly shook her.
“Angela, wake up,” I demanded.
She stretched her tan bare arms and took a long yawn.
“What?” she mumbled.
“It’s the first day of high school.” I pushed my curls behind my ear. Angela immediately got up and walked over to her cherry wood wardrobe.
“You’re wearing this,” she demanded, as she pulled out an outfit, ready to wear on a hanger. “It would go perfect with your skin tone,” she beamed a smirk at me. I grinned back and got up.
I grabbed my outfit and changed in the bathroom. The shirt was a silk camisole and a cashmere cardigan above it. My trousers fit perfectly, as if they were made just for me. I thoroughly brushed through my extensive ringlet locks and applied my bubble gum flavored lip-gloss. I gripped on to my leather flats and my Aquamarine ring. I put my shoes and accessory on and I took a glimpse at myself in the full view mirror. I clutched my tote bag and walked to the dining table, where our Mother had had pancakes ready for us.
“Where’s Angela?” she asked. I looked up at her and saw she was bringing the breakfast to the table. I set my bag on my dark chair.
“Um, she’s still getting ready. Do you need help, Mom?” I walked over to the kitchen, which had an empty doorway.
“Sure, sweetie, thank you.” I facilitated her and sat down at the table. I looked through my new bag for a few minutes to make sure I had everything I needed. Then Angela came. She was having a conversation with someone on her cell phone.
“Yeah, okay. I’m coming in, like, 10 minutes the most.” Her and her friend exchanged good byes and Angela sat down and joined us at the table.
“So, um, Dad already left to work, right?” I asked my Mother, as I peeked up at her.
“Yes. Are you two done?” she asked, so she can drive us to school. I looked over the round table, diagonally at Angela as she was ogling at her nails that were painted a vivid glowing hot pink.
That's all I have so far. I'm not done though.