Descriptive Essay: Are We Getting Suspended?

There were waves of adrenaline pumping through my body. A million heart beats per second. I was beyond curious to see what lie behind those huge sliding doors. So many cultures and places I was ready to explore. I could not wait to see a whole new way of life. Once I stepped out of the airport, I could feel the warm and humid air against my skin. Thoughts rushed through my brain all at once. I was so excited to see part of the world that I have never seen before. My family managed to find a taxi that could fit us, and all the baggage that we came with. The leather seats of the car were cold, a relief from the hot weather. I sat in the car, glancing out of the window the entire way to our hotel. The hotel was tall and had a cubic shape. A turquoise green color with large, white beams running across it. When I stepped out of the taxi, there were people at the entrance to greet us. My father checked into the hotel, and then we traveled out near the pool and lounging area. Their was a crystal clear pool. As well as a gargantuan, abstract structure. It was white and resembled a giant goldfish. We looked out and could see the ocean. There were people parasailing and jet skiing. I immediately remembered the time I was in Mexico, all the people out on the water. The sunset reflected perfectly on the ocean. Distinctly remembering the fresh water scent ventilating around in the air. I got a similar rush being in both places, excitement and overwhelm took over my body completely. I felt two emotions at the same time, all tangled up in me. The view of this place was utterly breathtaking. The sun was beaming, and people below us were bustling. I could smell the ocean from the hotel, it was a comforting smell. As if I were on the beach or on a boat sailing away. The feeling that I got, when I stood above the new world below me, is something that is hard to forget.

The world whizzed past me in the comfort of the car, the cold blanket of air unable to reach my pale skin through closed windows and blasting heaters. The radio was quiet, the music providing ambience on top of the rumbling of the car’s engine. The last beat of the current song ended, filling the car with silence. After a few heartbeats, on came the next song, and I turned my head to look at the radio, hand outstretching to turn the dial up. As the strong, pulsing notes of the electric guitar filled my car, a smile came on to my face. It pulled me back, all those years ago, to a night I was ready to party and had hoped it would never end.

The alarm goes off at six in the morning. With the whole world still asleep, I get up and put on my basketball gear. My eyes hardly open and my muscles refuse to get out of the warmly made bed. My dad comes down with a rather keen smile plastered all over his face. He asks if I’m ready to go. I reply with a simple nod of my head. The feeling of the cold water from the sink suspends the feeling of collapsing muscles. But the day is long from over.

I remember entering the large but seemingly lifeless cafeteria. The lunch room was full of other high schoolers. I felt as if the lunch room was empty and I was alone. Just the recognition of not one person there deals the lonely card. Nobody recognized me. Not even one person, I looked left, I looked right, I looked down at my lunch. I pretend to check my phone for the notification that wasn’t there. I was the new guy, again. Starting from scratch is tough, but when it happens twice in two years, it seems borderline impossible to fit in.

“Is EN100 a useful class to take?,” this was a question I got asked by a junior at my school. They were looking for classes to take next year; I told them that it was an abundant amount of writing, but it was a great class to take. I went on to explain to them, that taking it in high school would be easier and cheaper than in college. Beginning to explain to them that it helped me grow as a writer and helped improve my English vocabulary, I realized it helped a whole lot. Throughout the first semester of school, we had to write essays over four different topics. These included informative, observation, reflection, and descriptive essays. I told them about my experiences while writing with these certain types of essays. This is what I said:

I walk through the halls wearing the same yellow sweater, ripped jeans and black boots as every other girl. They all turn their heads with their long straight hair. As I walked I saw a girl walking towards me, texting wearing the same thing as me. I reflected back to 4th grade when I had bought the most popular costume available. The dress, a blue and white car hop costume, was light blue with little flowers, the material felt scratchy, I kept itching the neck where the tag irritated my skin. But to a 10 year old me, that outfit was everything. When I saw her wearing the costume, I felt unbelievably embarrassed!I had worked tirelessly to get my long curly hair into a neat little side bun. It seemed to hold 500 bobby pins in it. My little hat perfectly placed on my head. My mother had done my makeup too. My costume perfectly ironed and without a single spot, I smoothed it with my little hands, so content with my costume. Yet she was wearing my costume.

People stared pouring into the house. It took at least 5 minutes for the house to be full of people. Half the people here were not on list, I guess the word of a party spread through out the school.

I was wasted. I can see the colors again. When I tell this to people they look at me like i just grew two heads. This has been happening to me since i was 19 and drank in my parents basement. Now i'm 22. I've grown to learn what the colors mean. I believe they're auras. Why i only see them while i'm drunk, i dont know. I take a peek at the bartender. He was a strapping young man. Young and beautiful. 24 at the most. He was tall and brawny with black hair and a bit of a stubble. He had beautiful light blue eyes, which was magnificent with his dark complexion. He had a pink aura, as i did. A person walks over and sits by me. She's petite with beautiful black curly hair in a ponytail. She had dark, smooth skin. She had strikingly beautiful facial features. A sharp jaw line and a perfectly contoured nose and face. Her beauty looked natural though.Her aura was a light lavender color.

I look out the small oval window as my carriage makes it way along the ruff, jerky and jarring dirt road. The darkness makes the tree branches look as if they are reaching out towards me, causing me a slight feeling of unease. The rain bashing hard against the window reminds me of the night it all happened. As my carriage travels over a large bump I am jolted in my seat, startling me as my mind had drifted to memories of that dreadful night. I try to look away from the window and think of something else when a loud crack of thunder alarms me. More memories from that night. I look down to my hands in my lap and realise that I have been nervously moving them together subconsciously, ‘a nervous habit I need to stop’ I think to myself. I wonder how far away I am from the destination? I again look out the window and notice how dark the night looks, caused by the dark storm clouds and gigantic trees that loom overhead.

While walking through the enormous open-gated entry, I glanced down at the freshly printed orange stamp on my hand and smiled to myself. Happy to be back, even though it was sweltering hot, I could not wait for the gut-wrenching fun I was about to enjoy. There seemed to be an ocean of enormous rides set out in front of me. All were shiny and carried the bright colors of the rainbow. Some towered above the rest, reaching great heights within the sky. I could hear the cheerful laughter of children at the carousel, their parents gleefully taking pictures, and the terrified screams of those being swung into the air by monstrous roller coasters.

“Why does college have to be so hard, I literally put all my time and effort on my assignment for English but Mrs. Darling gave me a fifty percent! Can you believe a fifty percent” said Marlin.

I lift myself up and as soon as my feet touch the floor my body gets the chills of a cold hard wood floor. I man up and walk over to my little “office desk” and turn of the alarm, there was only the silence of nature's music. I took a moment to listen to the music and sighed to myself, a content sigh. I look back at the clock and it now says 5:35 AM time to get ready. I walk over to my closet door and put on the outfit from the boutique I’ve officially named the outfit Courtney. I opened the door and made my way over to the hallway bathroom next to my room and curled my wavy hair while looking at myself in the mirror. I have red wavy hair and dark green eyes I also have a few freckles on my nose and cheeks. My face is kind of diamond shaped and my features are pretty decent. Not to sound conceited but I always have though I was pretty, not supermodel pretty but average pretty. Otherwise I try to be humble with everything that I do so I don't give off the wrong expression. Anyways back to getting ready I think to myself, I continue to curl my hair for a few more seconds, as soon as I finish I comb through my hair with a brush and then bam instant “insta-glam hair!” Pleased with my look I walk out and turn off the bathroom light before leaving the bathroom. As I walk past my room down the hallway I notice that I’m the only one up Courtney must still be asleep. I wouldn’t blame her it was a long day yesterday of shopping and searching for clothes. As I walk down the stairs into

She is small and sharp and angular. Her elbows hurt when they're pressed tightly against you and her small fingers dig into your sides. She rests her chin on your shoulder and it sinks into you. Her fingers are flat- but you always remember them flatter than they are. In your mind, they are a 2D part of her. Her hair looks as if someone set it aflame. It reminds you of October, of the orange, crisp leaves. While you are in no way overweight, you are definitely softer than her. Her hands are delicate, you’re always afraid you’ll crush them, so you hold her hand loosely. You can’t decide what color her eyes are. At first, they seem blue, but the next time you see her you could swear they’re green, and occasionally they look a stormy grey.

The three of us head back to the motel. We ask if we need to drop Bella off at her house. She responds with a quick, harsh no. I have the feeling she isn’t telling us something… We race to the room and I get there first. I laugh in Justin’s face as he pulls out the couch. We don’t go to bed immediately. We stay up talking.

There was little to be said about a small town like New Hope. People didn't come to see their attractions, didn't come to even drop by to say hello. Hell, a lot of people that inhabited the rich lands of the town believed they were alone in the world. Forgotten. Leaving them to their ways of life without being disturbed by the bustling and hustling, stress filled ones of the city. Forgotten maybe, but that's how a lot of people wanted it.