My Thoughts

Essay

so i wrote this for a scholarship essay but i think it's good enough to share soooooooo here ya go

When Sara walked into the dim, life-less room, she felt her stomach drop. Her eyes noticed not only the poor design of the room, but also the antique, retro furniture that looked as if it was picked out in the fifty's and was forgotten about and the god-awful wallpaper that was peeling off the wall. The only thing that didn't bring vomit into Sara's throat was a beautiful blood red guitar stuck in the corner of the room. Sarah had always loved playing guitar. Her feet quickly carried her over to the stringed instrument. As she strung it around her neck, she found the *pick* tucked in between its strings. Sara pulled it out and strummed. She cringed as she realized the guitar was extremely out of tune. The guitar was slowly brought back into focus as its knobs were turned every which way until the ears of its holder were satisfied. After a long while, Sara finally released the guitar from her grip. She took another look around the room: however, this time she was looking at the items held in the dreadful room, not the room itself. In the room was an old, broken music player which _supposedly_ played _O Mio Babbino Caro_ by Puccini (it was so broken it sounded as if Puccini constructed horror music), a gold vase containing one single dead rose placed carelessly on an old coffee table in the center of the room, which also held a splintery, dusty *wicker basket *, and a small, pitiful painting of two girls running in a sunflower field, laughing about nothing. As Sara stares at the painting, she begins to feel suffocated. The walls began to shrink as she stumbled across the floor, trying to get to the door. The door seemed to be miles away. When Sara made it to the splintered, creaky door, she threw it open and ran out of the room. Running down the street, she passed a mother and her child. In the child's hand was a single *red balloon* that rose to the sky as the child let go of it. His face looked frightened, like a disgusting monster had just run past him. Sara continues down the never-ending path. She finds her apartment and slams the door, finally feeling relief and forgetting about the horrid room. She looks into the mirror and is baffled at what she sees. In her reflection is a not a woman. With a ghost white complexion, three blood red claw marks scratched down her face, runny makeup, and wild hair, she is looking at a beautiful monster. A single tear runs down her cheek. Sara is no longer the gorgeous woman she was before that room.