On a stormy Monday morning, a girl wakes up and barely drags herself out of bed and forces her small feet across the hallway and into the bathroom. The girl steps on top of her step stool and stares back at the mirror. With tired eyes she stares at the dark skin, dark eyes, and dark cornrows covered with her favorite colorful hair beads, looking back at her. She smiles at her rainbow colored hair and shakes her head with a giggle as she hears the beads shake around, going about her morning routine as usual. She brushes her teeth with her Disney princess toothbrush, showers, gets dressed and gets ready for another day.
She walks into her classroom, on her first day of elementary, with a bounce in her step as her hair beads hit off each other, only to be stopped by the still and cold air that greets her. The class full of light skin and straight hair stared back with confused, and slightly disgusted, eyes. Whispers flood the room like the tides of a tsunami. As she looks around the room she sees everyone gawking at her cornrows and the beads that hang off of them.
The girl, once lively and energetic, now eyes the ground as her open and bubbly frame coils into a ball of uncertainty. She draws the last few shreds of her courage and walks to her assigned seat in the front row of the class.
On a rainy Tuesday afternoon, a girl sits in a salon chair with the thick smell of chemicals invading her nose and a burning sensation irritating her scalp. Tomorrow is her first day of 6th
1.Contact with members of the lower castes always reminded him painfully of this physical inadequacy
Hadlei Smith was a gorgeous teenage girl, with bright red hair. She was five foot, six inches tall, and had a frail stature. Hadlei lived with her parents, and was an only child. She was more of the art type, rather than math or science. As she would always act kindly, she was known for her thoughtful personality. Unlike some red-haired people, Hadlei loved her red hair, and wouldn’t change it for anything. She lived in Houston, Texas, her whole life, which in her opinion, was the best place to live in the entire world. She went to school at Stratford High School, and was halfway done with her ninth grade year.
It was a dark, cold and generally gloomy September night. There were footsteps all through the street. Laughter and smiles from the children of the orphanage. It was nothing new, the children made the environment around them their home. Little Annie with the bluest of eyes was sitting on the old trash can watching two older boys from the boys home. Johnny jumped mid air for the ball, and it grazed right between his hands into the alley behind them. With a look of terror, he entered the alley. It was very dark and nothing could be seen; he noticed the ball had rolled into the corner so he set off in that direction. He reached his hand out for the ball, and suddenly he heard a huge thud from behind the bush. Moments later Annie started to worry because he has not returned. She took a deep breath and jumped down. There was no one in sight as she entered the alley. The alley was filled with a breathtaking odor.
I clutch the right side of my stomach where the butterflies are relentless. As I step into the school, the stench of chlorine hits me like a brick wall and stings my eyes. My finger tips drag along the cold brick wall occupied by vibrant posters advertising bake sales and dances. The thumping of basketballs on the floor echos throughout the dark halls. At the end of the hallway, a light shines on a smiling blonde lady sitting with her arms crossed at a wooden table. The pressure to be perfect floods my mind.
But my mom and aunt assured me that everything will be fine and that kids here are very kind and friendly. Though I wanted to run back to my mom and go home with her, I decided against it and followed the counselor to Ms. Algers’ fourth grade classroom. As soon as I walked in, Ms. Algers’ introduced me to the whole class, and my soon-to-be classmates greeted me with a nod, smile, or “hello’s”. Though everyone was warm, there was this one girl who went above and beyond to make me feel welcomed, her name was Emma. She had blonde hair with glistening blue eyes, loved to play soccer, participated in student body activities, and wore abundant pastel colored shirts. She had prepared a welcome card and a pencil for me on my first day of school. She even introduced me to her friends, showed me around the classroom, sat with me during lunch, and played with me during recess. Her kindness made me feel like I belonged there and helped me get over my fears in a short amount of
Finding her classroom had been easy since the girl she had met on the bus helped to guide her. Walking into what would
Judith was an angel you could say. Her dainty legs and pale skin even seemed to suggest that. Anyone who ever laid eyes on her would tell her that she was the most beautiful girl they had ever seen. She half-smiled to herself as she remembered this. It was almost sunrise. Her tower always saw the first few seconds of morning. She lived alone but she was fine with that because she had recently been getting visitors every few days. Judith tiptoed over to her vanity and took a seat on her stool. Her chestnut brown hair glimmered in the mirror as the sunlight bounced off of it. She tucked some dangling strands of hair behind her ears and dipped her fingers in the cool bowl of water to the right of her. She patted her face clean and her hands
It had been another beautiful day in Ireland. The sun was shining, and everything seemed to be perfect. A small girl from a small village was walking home from school. Her name was Molly. She was eleven years of age, had flaming red hair, and a face full of freckles. Her family consisted of three people. Her mother, her father, and her. She was poverty-stricken, but always tried to find the silver lining in things. She was in bright sprits, considering she had aced a challenging test that day. She arrived at her home, hoping that her mother had had a equally enjoyable day as she had. But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to face. As the old front door to what Molly called home squeaked open, she heard the sound of hard
Once upon a time, there lived an odd but beautiful young girl, Flax. She had deep emerald eyes and flaxen hair that fell to just about her knees. She despised her long flaxen hair, she grew tired of having it look the way her mother always forced it to be. Late at night, Flax dreamed and wished for her hair to be every color in the world: blue as the sky, green as the grass, and purple as the lilacs that grew wildly in her garden. The young girl focused her eyes on the objects that inhabited the sky; wishing for freedom and hair that fell just above her ears.
The hallways an endless channel, the doorway a snowcapped mountain, indomitable and tough. Prim and proper with a shiny buckle, the heels of my mother’s penny loafers clack loudly on the scuffed floors. The classroom is empty, there 5 desks in a semi-circle at the front of the room with a podium in the middle. Mrs. Mellinger smiles at me, asks me if I’m ready to go. I tell her that I sure hope so. She laughs, and I take my seat in the front of the room. Shortly after, the other kids filter in, some sit with me in the front, the rest take their normal seats.
She wore sweatpants and a huge sweatshirt with some slides she had gotten almost three years ago. Her hair was thrown up unbrushed into a bun and she didn’t put much effort into brushing her teeth. She grabbed her bag and a water. She decided to walk to school blasting her music thinking of the awful day ahead of her. She managed to make it through wednesday. When she arrived back home her mother was dressed with the car keys in her hand, Aspen asked “mom where are you going?” her mother explained today was the first day of therapy for Aspen. She rolled her eyes and ran to her room. “Aspen we have to go put your shoes on and meet me in the car, oh and wear something presentable please.”. Aspen screamed into her pillow and then put new clothes on and shoes and grabbed yet another water and headed towards her mother's
The girl shifted uneasily. The chair was uncomfortable and the muscles of her lower back and calves were starting to cramp,
The class commenced eight minutes ago, and all Alice could feel was dullness in her soul. Obviously, talking to someone during a lecture is distracting, and she needed some peace and quiet to concentrate on her studies. Her body tensed up, and a faint whisper traveled to her ears.
The little girl’s parents began to worry about that fuzzy little head. They concerned themselves over it so much that they decided to go to the man with all of the answers. He too worried about those tiny hairs; how will such a gifted girl grow up without a proper head of hair? She won’t be a child forever! Luckily, he had an answer for this too. He told her
It was a good day, I stood in front of the door so I could be picked up by my mom. There was a kid, James, he was much taller than me at the time, most people were taller than me, but I didn’t mind. James came down the hallway and was staring straight at me with a devilish look in his eyes and a smirk on his face. I was holding a couple of picture books that we had to bring that day, I really enjoyed reading them. He was approaching me, I didn’t think anything of it, all I was doing was minding my own business. He stood in front of me with his back straight and he was staring into me, like he was establishing dominance, like a lion in the jungle. In one quick motion he snatched all of my picture books straight out of my hands, I stood there speechless, I hated confrontation. Then he held those books over me to the point where I couldn't reach them. I jumped and jumped but I couldn’t reach those books, I repeatedly said “Give them back!” and he responded with “Just take them then”, he knew I couldn’t.. By then a teacher saw us and reclaimed my books from James, but I was already in tears. I spent the rest of the day sobbing and trying to understand how someone could be so heartless.