Comes and goes

Essay by frenchbebeJunior High, 8th grade November 2014

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Luana Siros October 25 2014

Personal Narrative, Draft 2 Period 1

Comes and Goes

One day she was there. She was sitting on my bed, in my room, using my computer. She was filling my room with that acid smell of dye and hair burning under the blade of a flattening iron. Acridic and suffocating, it made my eyes watery and gave me the urge to run out by the fire escape to get away from this stranger as quick as possible. She said she was my cousin, but I had never heard of her before. Her dad, my uncle, never mentioned her either. I took a hard look at her. She was three years older than me, but she smiled like an old woman, her eyes pleading up and lifting up a little bit, but just for a second, and the little sparkles in her eyes burned with joy like tiny candles lit up by invisible hands.

She had a hundred faces and used them in different occasion. She could be polite and quiet, or loud mouthed and silly, or even rebellious and carefree. She herself did not know whom she was yet, or even anything about her dreams, her hopes, her passions. One day she wanted to be an actor. The next day she wanted to be a doctor. The day after it could be a nurse. I liked to think that she was only herself when she was with me, that all her other personalities where facades.

When I think back at her, I alway think of her as one of those peacock. You know, those big and blue birds with a magnificent metallic plumage. They always showed out their beautiful feathers but they used them up by the winter by walking carelessly on them. That was...