The Walk

Version 1

People stopped and stared as the blonde walked down the nearly emty hallway. Chin up, clothes hugging every curve, four inch heels, wearing pink from head to toe. She walked forward, icy blue eyes never straying from directly in front of her. A boy jumps out, startling her, before beginning to flirt with her. She gives him a forced smile before stepping around him, almost as if the encounter had not happened in the first place. She reeks arogance.

Version 2

She kept her head up walking forward and determined not to do something stupid. She felt people staring at her, and almost didn't realize just how different she was dressed, even her hair was different from the browns, blacks, and splashes of red. This was much different from her old school. She just wanted to blend in.

She jumped slightly as a boy popped out in front of her. He began speaking but she didn't understand a word. She forced a smile, realizing just how hard it would be fitting into an American school and just how different it would be from the countless movies she's seen to prepare for this day.

She stepped around the boy. It seemed rude, but what else could she do? She kept walking.

Version 3

Plastic. The only word that comes to mind when seeing the new girl. I watched as she walked, thinking she was so above everyone else, enough to completely ignore the only friend she might possibly get with that attitude. She even had the steriotypical blonde hair you'll never see in this school.

Stuck-up. That's the impression I, and probably everyone else, gets. She screams money. She's probably rich but even money can't buy you friends here. As she left the hallway, I spun around, not wanting to bump into someone like that.

A waste of time.

The End

13 comments about this exercise Feed