english assignment from last year

descriptive english assignments
10/11/07

At noon the door to the master bedroom clangs obnoxiously against the charm dangling disheveled on the door knob and Jessica strolls leisurely out with an heir of a wise twenty five year old goddess coming to inspect the labor of her devoted followers. I simply observer her and wonder what she will find that she dislikes, or if she just wants to talk to hear her words form little soldiers marching off to war. Her bleached hair that hangs midway down her back is stringy from the sweat of sleep, and her face, with the most shockingly beautiful features, are deceived by her short plump legs reaching desperately for the ground, meeting each other rubbing together at mid thigh. Barely covering her rounding body is a strained maroon velvet nighty, probably expensive and flattering in her teenage years. Untouched by the reality of her expanding self, her startling green eyes sit sharply on high opinionated cheek bones and fashionably hollow cheeks. This is probably the reason she doesn’t know her self image for what it is; when her face can stay so tightly plastered to her hawk shaped skull it seems impossible that the rest of her body could go on expanding with out the consent of her head. Like a hawk her eyes are all knowing and searching for anything possible of deceit. Swinging her small hands purposefully her stride believes she is being watched and judged by everyone and she truly believes she has something to prove to them, those she rules over in her own small kingdom of a two bedroom apartment with limited windows and a stained brown carpet.


10/14/07

By turning to the side and tilting her head she hopes to look somewhat younger and above the drama of this scene she goes to such extremes to fit into, but when people see her they know her kind. Her eyes touch nothing because while she is turned away she sees everything that goes on around her through her ears and nothing is sacred. She poses her body straighter on her bar stool and touches the man sitting next to her at the bar gently on the arm and asks casually for a cigarette. He grins, mistaking her for a cheap prostitute and begins to follow her, but resigns when she is tailed by two friends close in tow. Her head grazes the crowd, daring anyone to hold her eye contact, and she floats like a bloated bubble to the door with her cigarette dangling elegantly between her slender index and middle finger. Holding the heavy metal door the tired bouncer nods towards her and she bares her teeth in her sweet, almost genuine smile. He knows her because everyone here knows her, but he is as scared of her as she must be of herself.

10/16/07

I’ve seen it before. A little girl in a big house. A small child in an old body. She wears life like a fluffy robe. Too big. Too white. Too heavy. Weighed down she wears responsibility, elegance, power and knowledge. She wears it in an upstairs attic out of an old trunk trying it on for size. This is not her robe and these things she does not own. Responsibility she does not possess. Beauty and power are all in her head. No one is fooled. We are not blind to these excuses. Tighter she ties the robe around her self and her mirror image says, “Someday this will be becoming on you.” These pretend clothes in your pretend life. Your pretend blonde hair. Your pretend self. It’s recognizable. I see you as a girl. You are wishing you had control. Fighting to convince the world. Struggling to convince yourself. What if none of you is real? You are still a whisper of a human pretending to be queen.

10/20/07

At the corner of Nahua and Kuhio stands the one man she says she ever loved and he barely acknowledges her as he waits patiently for the light to change and the walk signal to call him to the safety of the other side. Jessica eyes him and in her most mature manner she waves a modest hello with her head held so high she looks like she might be trying to swallow the excess weight she put on since she last saw him, but he knows she is alone and her friends don’t want to be with her now, yet still she looks for them across the street like they will magically appear and make her seems so important to this man who never cared so much about her to even sign the divorce papers for fear of losing his green card. This lack of caring infuriates her but should she ever let it show she would lose her game, a loss that would ruin her for she knows she plays this game she refuses to admit to better than anyone else and if anyone ever beats her at it they better watch themselves because even though Jessica says she loves and forgives she never forgets, and rarely does she ever love and forgive. If caring is one thing this world needs she would be so out of luck. Love is just a word I think people who surround her like to play with, and even though she knows this she insists that she understands and she can play along with out getting caught up, and then she dives head first into this churning river of her psychopathic mind games she is the first to get swept away.