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Picture Perfect Essay, Research Paper

Picture Perfect

By: Nikki

E-mail: luv_n@hotmail.com

Picture Perfect Prom is approaching, and I m not ready, I think to myself. I haven t bought my dress yet, my shoes, or made any appointments. I don t even have a date! I can t say I blame the guys around here, I mumble while feeling very sorry for myself. I m very predictable. I do the same things every day! I wake up, get ready for school, walk outside to my freezing cold car and scrape off the windows, and head off to school. I wish Dad would let me park in the garage. I m the one that has to leave the house at 7:00 a.m. It is more work for me, though. I don t think anyone really notices, or cares. I only see Dad about twice a week when he comes home from work earlier than normal. I roll out of bed, and stare at my beeping alarm clock with glowing red numbers. Stretching up to the sky, I think, I can t be late for school anymore or the teachers will give me detention. Father would not be pleased. While exploring my closet, the only outfit that is hanging is a white turtleneck, with a green vest, and dark green jeans. I pull it out of the closet and hang it up next to the shower. A warm shower actually seems like a good idea. After I m finished with my shower, I put the out-of-style turtleneck and vest on, and squeeze into the size 5 jeans. I m just lying to myself by thinking these things fit. I d be much better off with a size 8 or 9. Maybe if Mom was still here, I would have some sense of fashion. I really don t know how I m supposed to dress. I don t think Dad would even consider helping me out. He s too busy with his more important patients. I scrape off the dirty windows of my old, rusty car and begin to drive to school like any other day. I pass the cheerleaders giggling in their pretty skirts to the right, and the cute guys following them, as usual. I bet they all live normal lives, I whisper to myself before turning on the radio to my favorite station. After sitting through my first four hours of classes, I realize that almost every girl is looking through a prom magazine, or gossiping about other people. I can t take this anymore. I need to go home, I guess. Tuxedos, prom dresses, appointments I think I m going nuts. I tear out a piece of college ruled paper and write myself a note, excusing me from my last three boring classes. Holly has a doctor s appointment today at 12:00 p.m. She will not be returning to school for the rest of the day. Sorry if we have caused any inconvenience. Thank you, Don McDowell That looks good! I keep getting better at forging things! Dad will never notice. He has never really written me a note. The offices don t know that I m actually writing all of them. I could probably write a letter using Mom s name, too. They might catch on to that, though. She died of cancer a little more than three years ago. The usual pangs of sad memories shoot through my stomach. I quickly fold up the note and shove it into my back pocket and rush out of the classroom. Throwing my note into the attendance office s excuse box on the way, I frantically run out to my car. After a couple of false starts, my old 1988 Chevy Nova finally turns over. It roars and smokes, but it still moves when I step on the gas. That s all I care about. Driving faster than usual, I swerve around the hot, paved road trying to find my favorite tape and hoping no cops will pull me over. Safe and sound, I say as I roll into my driveway listening to my 1990 Enigma tape. I slam my door and run up to my room crying because I m so frustrated with school, and prom, and my dad. Shuffling around in my dark room, I find the phone and dial my grandma s phone number. Oh good, it s ringing, I say, short of breath. Hello? Hi Grandma. It s Holly! How are you? I m tired. Mack and I played Bingo until 2:00 a.m. last night. What s wrong, Dear? Why aren t you in school? Do you care about me? Of course I do. Why would you ask a silly thing like that? No one really does. No one has asked me to prom. Grandma, I m all alone in this world. You are the only one who is ever there for me and will gladly talk to me. Honey, I have to go. Mack is here. Stop by my house tomorrow after school and we ll have a little talk. Okay, I ll be there, I say sadly. Bye, Dear. Good-bye, Grandma. I hang up the phone and sprawl out on my twin size bed. I don t even think my grandma cares about me. If she did, she wouldn t ditch me for Mack, or any other guy, I talk to myself, again. I have no reason to live. No one would notice if I was gone. I wonder if Dad would even feel sad? I think while fumbling through my father s medicine drawer. I scan the labels of all the bottles, but they all look foreign to me. I guess since he s a doctor, he knows what all of these pills are. I would ask him, but he would get suspicious. I close the medicine drawer and walk over to my bed. I lift the down quilt up and crawl beneath it, falling asleep faster than usual so I can stop thinking about prom. I guess that is a good thing. The next morning, instead of going to school, I go over to my grandma s house. Her house is a small wooden cottage in the middle of a dense forest. The scent of her home always lingers in my mind. It s Grandma s smell, and I ll never forget it. It would make any person feel like they re walking on clouds and eating cherry pie. I tap on the door, Anybody home? I call. Grandma opens the door and excuses her messy house, even though her house is always spotless. How are you doing, Holly? she asks with a concerned look on her face. I didn t go to school today because I didn t feel well. I can t stop thinking about prom. It s coming up in two weeks. I m not prepared to go or invited. Oh, she says as she takes a seat in her wooden chair beside me. Her voice hints to me that she knew what I was thinking. The look in her eye makes me wonder about how my mom would be doing if she hadn t had cancer. Grandma walks

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