I am 15 and live in Maryland. I have a passion for writing, reading, dancing, and surprisingly iced tea.
Please feel free to critique any of my published work. I want/need as much feedback as possible
Written By: Azura R
April 1, 2015
He came down the school steps in a hurried manner putting one foot in front of the other to make the quickest route between point A and point B. Unlike most, he did not believe the fun was in the journey, but rather only the destination was important. He swaddled the two binders in his left arm covering them from the dangerous forces of his large strides like a small child on a rollercoaster. His body held rigid tension as if he was a soldier. Any movement that was made did not flow; it was unexpected and disjointed each limb severly reacting to its predecessor. In the same manner, his undistinct brown hair jarred side to side as other students brushed and bruised him in the stairwell. He did not acknowledge these interferences with others nor did he move to the side when others attempted to pass.
Soon he arrived at the door of the class. His stop was abrupt and noise-filled. Others turned their heads as his feet screeched to hault. Teachers shushed him as his jerky hand reached for door knob. Finally his pace was reduced to a normal stroll. Looking at the teacher's desk, he realized how early he was.
Just how he liked it. No one there to critize him. Only the teacher's approval of his punctuality to surround him in warmth. But did that matter in end? Did it matter that he became the nussiance of the school to avoid comunication with his peers? Did it matter that he had no friends inorder to appear exemplary in the eyes of the teachers?