Descriptive essay: The struggle!!

On a hot sunny day, it was about 90 degrees outside. I was in the house all day lying down bored on the black, comfy sofa and with soft pillows surrounding me, flicking through channels and relaxing. I stood up tired, exhausted, and didn’t feel like getting bothered at all.  I was trying to go to the bathroom, and then I heard the front door open. It was loud and noisy. I knew it was my mother by the smell of her strong perfume. So, I got up slowly and ran to the bathroom because every time she walks in the house, she starts to annoy me. I heard her footsteps from the bathroom. While I stand in the bathroom, as silent as possible, looking at the bluish wall, the smell of soup and the sound of the TV outside of the bathroom door. As I walk around the wet bathroom floor, frustrated to come out because I knew she would act like the same person I knew all my life, and that will be her always yelling. Five minutes later I heard call me. She was extremely angry.

(Khadi).  She sounded like she had a bad day. I excitedly opened the door, pretending I was happy about everything, and couldn’t wait for the so call family meting. The cool air touches my skin and the bright colored pink is what my mother was wearing. This is when everything started.

She angrily give me wet five dollar bill, I didn’t even know why it was wet but okay…she asked me to go to the store, as she walk up stairs I stomp my feet and got really mad, face frowned and eyes red. I hear a footstep coming back down.

My mother with a green shirt saying “oh yea don’t take your bike with you”, and I said but mom. She goes up the stairs and slam the door while she was going back up I heard her voice but in a smaller tone saying I’m not going to repeat myself. I didn’t feel like getting dressed I threw on my pink overgarment; I then put my green sneakers with a black and white kemar. I headed on out. I didn’t listen I walked outside with the bike. 

Wait let me try myself, Heart beating faster the sound of family laughter and conversations. I can barely pedal, trying my hardest not to make a fool out of myself, but in my mind that was the only thing I knew was going to happen. Teenagers disparaging me. Sounds of whispers, bubble gum, and the feeling of humiliation. I always knew that I could do whatever I put my mind to so I kept trying. Every Time I fell off I pretend I was doing it all of on purpose.

I was asked by my mother to sit down and relax for 30mins, so I watch running children’s, the sound of ice cream truck, mom yelling and boys who claims to be gang members. I waited the 30 minutes; I even counted down the last one minute. After the count down I rushed to the bike. I get on my bike and pedal slowly of the block. As I pedal passing by the police station I felt shy and somehow embarrassed. I then look down to the blackish gray concrete, was I seen Doritos, candy, and a pop eyes wrappers. I start to feel and wish I had some. As I get closer to the street I smelled chicken from the Chinese store, African food from the African restaurant close by. As the bike get slower I starts to feel my overgarment pull and I was confuse as for what was happening, I looked down and saw my overgarment stuck in the chins I tried to get up and I was stuck. I looked down and saw that the only way I could have solve the problem was to tear my garment and that’s what I did. I grandiloquently walked back home with feeling of regrets, and blaming myself was the best way to make myself feel better. Back on the block to sounds of the winds blowing the trees and kids sitting, and no ice cream truck. Everything was Calm. Until when my aunt Amina came with her precious daughter Aishah. Her Aishah started to cry, and all the other babies started crying, I was annoyed I got back on my bike and rode to the end of the block with a lot of audacity. 

Babies crying, moms frustrated, and kids wearing colors that kept calm and me motivated. Green, red and grayish. Everything was good. I pit myself on the spot. I felt the need to stop the whole entire family to tell that I can ride a bike now; I had everyone’s attentions I knew I had to do something good. I felt sweat dripping, and my heart once again was my heart was beating faster and I felt like I was going to pop my tiny blood vessels in my forehead. I felt a lot of pressure. I rode to the end of the block then made a u turn on my way back down, I could see nothing but a blurry shirt running around so I knew I had to make sure, not to run the child over, trying to save the kid made me fall hard of the bike to the ground. Tears dripping, my knees were bleeding, hands all red, and my whole day became a disaster.