Narrative Essay On Appearance
People are not always what they seem. I was in the eighth grade when I truly figured this out. Although I am not proud of it, around that time I would judge people solely on their appearances. I was a teenage girl in middle school, and it was fairly common to judge people around that age. I had a select group of friends, and we were all considered to be popular girls. We were pretty, we all had the same things going on, and we were into the same activities. We all dressed nicely and carried ourselves well. I took pride in that. I was not into hanging with loud, dramatic, attention loving girls that did not carry themselves well and did not dress or look the way I liked. I loved to hang with girls that looked clean and dressed …show more content…
It was a new school and a new city, which essentially meant meeting new people. I was not looking forward to meeting anyone new, at all.. I hated to meet new people. I was already upset that I had to move away from my friends and my school. Unfortunately, I was stuck somewhere I did not want to be. The city itself was such a different atmosphere than what I was used to. I moved from Fontana to Victorville, or the desert as I liked to call it. There was dirt everywhere Everything was so secluded. The nearest grocery store was a ten minute drive away from my new house. I thought the city was terrible, and the school was not any better. It was my first day and all of the kids looked so different from where I had come from. They dressed poorly and they acted like they had no home training. I did not like it, at all, but there was still so much more of the day …show more content…
“Yes,” I quietly replied. I did not want to talk to him or anyone else.
“What’s your na- ?” And before he could get his next sentence completely out there was a girl screaming and speed walking up to us. It was as if she came out of nowhere like she had been watching from afar.
“Floyd!” she yelled as she made her way to us. And in an instant there was this brown skinned girl with black and bright red individuals braided into her hair standing right in front of Floyd. She was wearing a black and red plaid shirt that matched her braids, ripped up faded black jeans, filthy black Chuck Taylors, rainbow colored beaded bracelets up each arm stopping at her forearm, and her lips were so shiny from her lip gloss that the sun gave them a glare. She was clearly sizing me up, and I dutifully did the same. She looked a mess. I could not wrap my head head around how raggedy she looked.
“Oh heck no! I’m not used to anything like this. They look really crazy out here.” I thought to myself.
“Hi. You’re new huh? I’m Joemarnice, but everyone calls me Joejoe!” She happily shouted.
“Hi. Yep. I’m Kyesha.” I said dryly. “Joemarnice!” I thought. “I could never be seen with a girl that looked like this, and her name is Joemarnice. We really can’t be