Descriptive Essay

Decent Essays

The school was indeed an escape, and I had thanked god privately for Brendon Larson. I remember his personality vividly; his light humor and big glasses curved my lips for nearly the whole class. Especially anatomy and pathology, who knew the dull human body, could be so funny. He was generous with his happiness and sprayed a thin layer of hope on all of us from the front of the room. I used his humor as an anesthetic from the spiritual growing pains I was encountering. Brendon, from the south, loved comfort food, spoke in broken English, and his face was like a mood ring. He turned fire engine red when he was upset with us; Brendon was tannish when he was relaxed, and almost purple when he was embarrassed. I recall thinking he was so much like me. He had a deep desire to be appreciated, and it was like a cologne attracting people who needed to need him. The problem with a personality like his was nobody assumes you are sad, hurt, lost, or depressed. So, if anything was going on with him, it wasn’t noticeable. It wasn't until months after school I would learn he struggled with a drug addiction. He relapsed and gave people with limited substance in their own life something to gossip about amongst mixed company. The school had been at us about fun, okay not fun, but they certainly seemed to snatch all the things from us to make our sentence seem a little shorter. We could not have drinks, cell phones, or food inside the class. However, they hadn’t spoken about “hard

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