Descriptive Essay About My Friend

“Okay sissy, don't cry,” she pleaded.  I knew the day was coming up, but I tried not to think about it.  She was my absolute best friend and I could not imagine living 1,300 miles away.

Bobby has been my best friend since were in diapers, as my mom would say. She is the most tenderhearted person you could ever know, and is scared of many things: spiders, disappointing anyone in any way shape or form, and our horrible teacher Ms. Figgleman

Midday, Monday, April 2, 2012, was no ordinary day for me as it marked a new beginning of life in South Florida. As I stood in the cold gray metal chamber as the gray steel door began to open, a well-dressed, and groomed man stood in the center of the barren corridor of the central jail in downtown Fort Lauderdale. Mike Fine, the owner of the Primary Purpose Sober House, remained motionless as I began to walk towards him, carrying only a brown paper bag filled with my personal effects. Since this moment Mike opened his arms to give me the tremendous embrace of my life, it was the start of a friendship that would inspire change in all areas of my life.

“A true friend is someone who is there for you when he’d rather be anywhere else.”- Len Wein. Ever since the day Tom got in trouble and had to sit by Becky Thatcher, they became best friends, and even claimed they loved each other. One day when Becky and Tom stopped getting along, Becky sought out to find what the other schoolchildren referred to as the teacher’s secret book. To her great delight, she found the book and began flipping through the many pages. However, while hastily flipping through, Becky tore one of the pages. Tom happened to waltz in at just the right moment and witness this fatal act. She fearfully put the book back in its place begging Tom not to tell, and anxiously awaited the moment the teacher would find it. Once he found his book, torn page and all, the teacher began questioning everyone in the school house if they had done it. In a state of pure petrification, Becky knew she could not lie to the teacher even if she tried, and so she awaited her punishment. Astonishingly, however, Tom noticed the fear, and tragedy in Becky’s eyes, and as the school master neared Becky to confront her, Tom rose up and declared that he tore the book, relieving Becky of her dreaded punishment. Everyone who reads this touching tale, wants Becky and Tom to get along, however, some believe Tom should have taken Becky’s punishment, while others believe he should not have. Despite contrary beliefs, Tom

“Are we there yet?” I called from the back of our car, “Not yet bud.” my father yelled over the blasting radio. “Vroom, vroom, vroom.” the engine roared as my dad revved up the car. Every year we get in the car and we head to our cousins house in Utah. I was going to go get some snacks at the gas station. I didn’t even realize how sweaty my hands were until I touched the handle. I swiftly wiped my hands on my shorts and then hopped out of the car into the blazing hot outdoors. “Oh come on” I thought when I landed on the surprisingly hot concrete. I scrambled up and looked around to make sure none saw the embarrassing fall.

Jade, Samantha, Mason, and I were walking down Creep Street thinking of a way to get to the next neighborhood in less than fifteen minutes so we could get more Halloween candy. Jade is my best friend. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. Mason and I met each other at school last year while being office assistants. I met Samantha in P.E. at school last year. Out of the three of my friends, I'm closest to Jade because we’ve known each other for a long time.

After being taken back to the unit, the kids were at lunch, so I felt relieved. If you haven’t realized by now, my relief is always temporary. I was strip searched and taken off all of my medications that eased me due to doctor’s orders, he wanted me on a clean slate. I sat in an all white room with blinding blue chairs that were drilled into the ground, a television behind plexus-glass, and a table built onto the wall. I didn’t know when I had first arrived this room would become familiar and a part of my everyday life. My roommate became my best friend. She held me when I cried, played with my hair, and told me how wonderful I was. I didn’t the same for her: when she would have a break down in our bathroom, I went in, turned the light off, held her, and she would cry her heart out. She wasn’t like that though, she was such an aggressive and angry person, but to me, she was the sweetheart who loved to splatter paint on a blank canvas, create a masterpiece in her journal, and that had an odd obsession with fuzzy socks. She was stunning. Her milky way, caramel colored skin that was soft to the touch always glowed. She has these drop-dead gorgeous eyes that were an odd brown, that looked green in the lighting, but in the center she had red bursting out like fire into the cool, muddy waves. Her hair was a curly, beautiful disaster. I loved waking up to her wet head and it took her twenty minutes to get it styled, even if it was just a pony-tail. She also had this great

” Think of your friendships as an auditorium. Would you be more careful about who you let sit in the front row?” One of many life lessons I learned was to not trust everyone with everything.I learned that the hard way of telling my best friend about what happened after War Hill High school Prom. Everything unfolded right then and there.

As we grow older, we meet new people and make new friendships. Out of all the people you meet there is always that one friend that you click with the most. That being said a best friend is someone you look out for and care for like sibling. As we grow older we have a perception of growing old and having your best friend by your side, but I came to the realization one morning that it is not true. I found out my childhood best friend past away from a drug overdose.

There is always that one person that you have that knows all of your secrets, shares all of your jokes, listens to all of your gossip and is simply someone you can call your best friend. I live with that person, or at least I used to. Her name is Allison, my sister and my best friend. Looking back at every single memory I have, she is there in some form or fashion. She is there holding my hand my first day of preschool, wearing the same jean jacket as I because our mom loved it when we matched. She is there on the basketball court with me during my very first game, helping calm my nerves and stop my shaking. She is there holding me while I cry over my first heartbreak, reassuring me that things will get better. Even after she graduated, leaving me in high school alone, she is still there. She is at every game cheering me on from the stands and is always willing to help me with things such as homework or listen to my constant rants about teachers.

My cousin, Richard, was such an inspiration to my two brothers and me. I looked up to him for everything. He was an amazing athlete who would never give up on or off the baseball field. I never knew how fast something could be taken away until January 12. I thought the world was just simply punishing me, but then I realized that I couldn’t control what happened even if I wanted to.

I once believed that a strong friendship could withstand anything, but all it takes is a minor disagreement or sarcastic comment to ruin one. My best friend Michaela and I could hardly contain our excitement as we stepped out of my dad 's white convertible in front of the community building. We were wearing matching burgundy dresses for our friend Nancy 's quinceanera and the night had finally arrived.  Nancy greeted us at the door where we marveled over her sparkly teal dress. We couldn 't wait to reunite the group of six friends who hadn 't been together in almost a year.

Bright lights and holding poses we smiled even bigger for the camera. This day was really important to me because I learned the importance of everlasting friendship. We were all tired, but we wouldn 't stop until we got the perfect picture. We took both videos and photos and hunted for the best spots in the yard. Even after sweating in the Indiana sun beating down on us, we still worked. Hours of editing and work gone into these photos and we finally picked 10 out of the hundreds. I might not have an Instagram yet, but soon I 'll have a few good pictures to start.

It was always my sister and I that would say the silliest things; it was as if curiosity always got the best of us. Uncle Jorge was the one who would always play along in our games, never getting mad if we disturbed him while working. I could simply say that Uncle Jorge is an ordinary Mexican guy, but he is more than ordinary. He may not have a lot of money, but he is still a humble man. His beautiful green eyes would fill with happiness to hear my sweet voice. Uncle Jorge has always been a pacific person, also a very caring uncle always watching over my brother, sister and me as if we were his kids.

SCR-EE-CH! There was that eerie noise again. I just had to see what it was. I opened the door and gasped! There was nothing only a portrait of my best friend. I try not to remember him, it's only on certain nights, whenever I’m alone in my room that I remember… It was last year when my friend asked me to stay at his house overnight. He lived in a big, gloomy house far away from the city, and he didn't want to be alone there at night, his parents had gone out that night and wouldn't be back until the next morning. He said we could have a really good time without his parents around, so I decided to stay. We watched TV and ate pizza in the living room until late at night. all a sudden the power went out, we were in total darkness and we got scared, we could only find one candle. We started to go upstairs, then all of a sudden we both ran up the stairs to my friend’s room as if someone was coming up from behind us. After entering the bedroom I slammed the door shut, then we laughed at each other. We lay on the bed talking for a time in the candle’s weak light. When suddenly we thought we heard something coming from downstairs. It sounded like somebody was sharpening a knife against a stone, then we heard another sound like someone moving around the house, from one room to another, back and forth, back and forth. We both stopped talking and stared at each other, feeling really scared inside.