Hometown Critics

I hate winter! I hate the cold, wet snow and the freezing temperatures. It is to cold, to

Get your 100% original paper on Hometown Critics!
Custom essay written from scratch by professional specifically for you!

white, to perfect. Its fluffy white flakes gently piling up becoming large snow piles for

kids to make snow angles and sled on. I sigh opening my eyes watching the kids playing

and laughing waiting for school to open . I watch them sled down the steep hill behind

the high school. Not caring how wet they get. If I close my eyes I can see everyone there

sitting around the wall laughing and stealing smokes from each other. I used to be one of

the so carefree, happy, unaware. But I can’t that bridge has broken leaving a mile wide

gap. I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a banging sound. I jump as my brother stands in

the doorway of my room. From the look on his face I’ve missed something while I zoned

out. I rearrange my face to be emotionless as he walks a few more steps into my room.

He doesn’t say anything just stares at my face trying to analyze me. But I know he won’t

be able to I’ve mastered hiding my emotions. He shakes his head and I know I’m right, the

thought makes me smile. His features change when he sees the smile though he gets more

annoyed. ” I’ve been calling you for the past ten minutes”. Even though he says this as

annoyed as he can I see the concern his voice is trying to mask. It’s written in his eyes

like a permanent question mark. The uncertainty in his he’s bothers me I don’t mean to

snap but I do. “I’m busy don’t you have something better to do”. The second it is out of

my mouth I regret it. I watch the hurt seep into his gaze. I know I’ve hurt him. He turns

and as he’s walking out he whispers, ” mom said to move before your late for school”.

Even though he’s whispered it feels like he is shouting it. I hate myself it seems all I’m

good at is hurting someone. I get off the window seat and slowing take the clothes off the
back of the chair looking at myself in the mirror . The girl staring back is not me she is

the shadow of what is left. This girl has big green eyes, and a rounded face with curly

brown hair cascading down her back and framing her face. People would say she’s pretty.

But that doesn’t matter not to her she doesn’t like the attention. She has a permanent

uninterested look and her hair covers her face hiding her from the world. that girl is not

me she is someone else someone who is broken. I glare at her but she glares right back. I

turn away the bile building in my throat. I hate her she’s spineless, a coward, needy. I

walk into my bathroom and quickly get dressed. I plug in the flat iron and brush my teeth

while it gets hot. I grab my hairbrush and start the grueling process of combing the curls

out of my hair. I pull until all that’s left is semi wavy hair. Then I grab the flat iron and

start to straiten my hair in sections. After I’m completely done with my hair I start my

makeup, carefully apply the mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow. I finally get done with

everything and go downstairs. The house is quit except for my footsteps and I know

every-one’s left. They’ve left like I knew they would, they used to wait for me but have

learned that I prefer to be alone. I slowly make my way out the door and down the street

to school. I watch the ground as I walk careful not to slip on any ice patches. I walk as

slowly as possible trying to prolong school as long as I can. A few minutes later I’m

standing in front of the school doors. I take a deep breath and push open the front doors….

DISCLAIMER: This essay has been submitted by a student. This is not an example of the work written by our professional essay writers.