The man in the blue!

Essay by erindaUniversity, Bachelor'sA+, February 2009

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Several years have pasted since it happened, yet I still get chills down my spine when I see a man wearing a blue suit. It is not the color blue that instills this fear, but the horror in connection to it. What begun as a normal day all those years ago would end in such a way that no one involved would ever be the same. Lives would be changed. Hearts would be broken. My own included. But I get ahead of myself. If you are to truly understand my story, then you have to hear it from the very beginning.

“Sarah you awake?” Mom yelled from outside my bedroom door.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” I grumbled. Rolling over, I glanced at the clock. Damn! It was after ten. It felt like I had just closed my eyes. Ok, so it was more like 3:00 o’clock when I closed them.

Same difference. Climbing to my feet, I staggered out the room and into the tiny hallway bathroom. I half heartedly brushed my teeth before splashing water onto my face. Patting my face dry with a towel, I looked into the mirror. Here I go again wondering for the hundredth time how much I resembled my absentee father Jacob Lightfoot.

I knew I possessed my mother’s amber colored eyes and oval shaped face, but that’s where the resemblance ended. As a result of the mixing of genes between my mother and father, my complexion was sort of caramel colored. Go figure. My nose is short and pert; and I have shoulder length wavy black hair. My lips are full but not overly so. More like pouty. Yeah, I liked that word. My body was not too bad. At five foot eight, I had incredibly long legs.

“Sarah!” Mom...