One Step in the Same Direction

Chapter 1

The trees danced to the sways of the wind on the other side of the transparent window. The heat radiated within the light aqua walled room. Papers were littered from the bed to the desk, empty bags of chips filled the trash can along with empty tubes of mascara, eyeshadow pallets and old crusty concealer. The sound of paper crunching could be heard from Acadia to Lafayette and back five times.

"Where is it!" I crunched more papers with anger as I threw them from one side of my room to the other. "I swear I put it here!" I curled my fingers into a fist and punched the geometry textbook sitting next to me. I opened the book and checked it page by page, but it still wasn't there. "ARGH!" I ended up just throwing it on my bed and checking the next textbook underneath it.

The wooden door to my room creaked and I turned my attention to my Mom, who was standing in the doorway with anger smeared on her face like butter on pancakes.

"Charlotte, what in God's name are you doing?"

"I can't find my fourth-grade letter!" I threw a random history paper across the room. "It's pissing me off!"

Mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a yellow envelope with pony stickers everywhere. "You mean this?"

I got up off the floor and snatched it out of her hands. I examined the envelope and carefully slipped it in the pocket of my jean shorts.

"You better clean up this mess before I get home from work tonight!" she scolded as she headed into her own personal luxury bathroom. I rolled my eyes and walked out of my room behind her.

When I reached the bathroom, I pulled out my makeup case from underneath the sink and prepared to transform Pimple Central into a freshly paved driveway. The worst part about being a woman is that every month, pimples appear out of no where on your face. It's like when girls go to the bathroom during school. They never go alone; they always take fifty people with them. It's literally a whole team. Once I finished putting my Tarte concealer on my face, I whipped out my mascara and ran it through my lashes, doubling their size. Once I carefully finished the bottom lashes, I took a cotton swab, dabbed it into some water and rubbed it underneath my eye to get rid of the mascara dots. As I went in for the second dip, water from the sink splashed onto the sink top and landed right next to my letter. I shrieked and elbowed it on the floor. I had a sigh of relief and got back to being a member of the Clean-Up Crew. I successfully got rid of all the access mascara and moved onto my blush. I dabbed it onto the powder, gave it a slight blow and applied it on my cheekbones. I love making my face look slightly sunburnt with blush. It reminds me of summer. Summer means no school, which means no stress, which means no anxiety attacks, which means no pressure on me, which means happiness. Plus, I have a summer birthday.

I smiled, which almost messed up my blush. I then canned the makeup for the day, I brushed my teeth, did my hair, you know, the boring stuff. I decided to finish of my messy braid with an emerald green scrunchie to match my emerald green top. Once I tied the last knot, I posed in the mirror and started hysterical laughing.

I'm such a nut.

I picked up the yellow envelope from the floor and dusted it a little. I walked out of the bathroom and held the envelope with a tight grasp in my left hand. I sat down on the couch next to my white backpack and zipped it up, still holding the letter. I yelled goodbye to my Mom as I exited the house and was transported into the garage. I selected my white Nike sneakers (not AirForces, regular Nike sneakers) and opened the garage door. I was blinded by the bright rays of the sun and covered my face with the envelope. God, it's real sunny today. Once my eyes got conditioned to the light, I headed off on my journey to school.