Possibilities

Getting Ready

I run up my carpeted stairs, two at a time, with a bright smile plastered on my face.

"Honey, don't you want a snack?" My mother questions behind me.

"No thanks! I have to get ready, I have a date!" I reply, in a squeaky tone.

Mom mumbles something in the background, but I don't manage to hear it and I don't care. I have a freaking date with Brett Dusting! I run to my white painted bathroom and take a quick shower. After that, I make my way down the hall with a towel wrapped around my body, heading towards my bedroom to get all dolled up. I open my scratched wooden door to my room and run to my white vanity. My makeup is organized on shelves in my vanity as if waiting for this moment. My blue bed-spread brings color to my pastel coral blue room. The clock by my bed reads 5:47P.M. I am home late due to chorus rehearsal. I sit down and stare into my mirror on my vanity and smile. My brown hair has gotten longer, about down to my chest. My hazel eyes and freckles bring out the soft dimples on my cheeks. My straight white teeth gleam and my distinguished jawline reflects the light from my desk lamp. I carefully apply my foundation, powder, mascara, liner, and lipstick one by one. I take out my curling iron and iron my light brown hair into spirals. Soon after that is ready, I change out of my towel and slip into my black leggings and purple sweater. My eyes travel to my clock which reads 6:54P.M. Almost time! I take one last glance in the mirror. I am ready. I smile one last time in the mirror as the doorbell rings.