The September breeze is sharp, and crisp. Crisp enough to bring unpleasantness to my nose. My sheened static hair, flows with the currents of the wind.
I hear the clap of the low heeled oxfords, or the muted concrete.
It looks like Fall.
The other adolescents crowd around me, buzzing around as if they were bees. Chatters develop as my soon-to-be peers notice our contrast.
"Ebony"
"Latrice"
"Keshia"
"Angela"
I hear all the different names pile up against my ears, as these "natives" try to figure me out. I'm too proud to look below the eyes of others, so I keep my head high. I can still hear the clap of my maroon heeled oxfords. Innocent minds compile at the foot of the door.
The wood is a deep, dark, mildly glossed brown. I stop in the steps. Kids run in the old building, as I stand as if not invited.
The sound of my shoes eases my tension, as I make my way to the steps.I sigh loudly, just to reassure myself of my nervousness, and to remind myself that these feelings are human.
My left leg carries my left foot, which presses down of the shiny flooring. "One foot in", but before I proceed with the next body part, Someone grabs me by the waist.
I turn unsure of what emotion I was supposed to express.
" 'Scuse me" the mysterious girl says and softly shifts me to the right, then nonchalantly releases my waist.
"Um sorry" I study her lightly tanned face. Its bombarded with red freckles. She has very sharp cheekbones, and dark reddish hair. Her attire differed from the other females at the school we attended.
The strange girl briefly stared, before making her way down the halls.
I adjust my mustard yellow peacoat, and head for the nearest bathroom.
As I look in the mirror I make sure I look somewhat acceptable, before finding my classes. I apply more dark purple lipstick, and fix my long thick lashes. My dark skin contrasts beautifully with my teeth, and lip color. I pulled my short fitted light purple dress down. Even though its only the 70s I've always admired the 50s mod look. All of the colors I picked are dark and muted, but makes my red under tones, beneath my chocolate skin brighten.
I make my way down the expanding hallway, I feel as if I'm Alice falling horizontal.
I pass a small glass room, where I see small heads bob back and forth.
I firmly grab the stainless steel handle, and turn it.
The carpet is unlevel from the marble flooring in the hall.
Pale faces, and cat-eyed frames all cock there heads toward me. Silence fills the room, until a portly olive toned woman, with purple glasses, and smeared red lipstick breaks the awkward atmosphere.
"You are ma'am?" She tilts her glasses towards the bridge of her nose.
"Elizabeth Parker" I plainly state
