I 'm Starving - Original Writing

Decent Essays
It’s 1:57, I’m starving. Alicia is waiting for me outside of the classroom. I can see her curly black her from the window, swaying back and forth as she’s pacing the ground. I’m tapping my pencil on my desk like a Britney Spears video. Come on Mrs. Vavonsese, let us out. The bell finally rings. We all dart out of the room as if it was on fire. “Well, finally, grab your bag and let’s go,” Alicia says to me. I smile, as I open my locker. We walk out of the school with the other 500 students dying to get home. It’s unseasonably warm for a March day in Syracuse, so the walk across the street isn’t too bad. We talk about the usual: boys, classes, how excited we are to be freshmen next year. Everything is as normal as normal can be for 14. As we’re waiting to be seated, I get voicemail from my mom. Weird, because I didn’t even hear it ring. “Hey kid, I’m taking your grandma to the hospital. Everything is fine, I am just taking her in to make sure. We’ll see you later. I love you.” I think nothing of it and go about ordering our meal. Grandma was diagnosed with stage 4 cervical cancer earlier last year. It was tough, watching her slowly becoming less and less like herself. It seemed like every day there was something else she wouldn’t be able to do anymore: ride bikes with me, drive, walk… But the last few months have gotten better. She’s been walking again and looks a lot happier. The idea of them going to the hospital for assurance doesn’t worry me. Mom always had to be sure to
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