Welcome To Paradise
Preperation for America
I got up bright and early on the morning of our flight to America. Just me and mom (I didn't have any brothers or sisters and my dad had died when I was 10) living in the amazing country of America!
As I contemplated what clothes to wear on the flight, my mom walked in the room.
"Hey hunny, you excited?"
"You bet I am!"
"Good, so am I. And please, wear something sensible!! And don't over do the eyeliner, we don't want you scaring the cabin crew with one of those looks you give when you get tired!"
I laughed as she walked out the room, and decided to put on my black 3/4 lengths with all the lil silver buckles, one of my favorite black hoodies and my black converse. I smuged on some black eyeshadow and some eyeliner on my top and bottom eyelids, then carefully applied some mascara. I was doing my make-up in front of my mirror, one of the only pieces of furniture left in my small room. I finished my make-up, and was just about to walk away, when I stopped and stared at myself in the mirror. I found myself thinking someting that I very rarely thought. I was pretty, not a beauty, but just...pretty. With my dyed black, shoulder length hair with the pink highlights, and my high cheek bones and aquiline nose, my face balanced itself out rather well.
Just a shame no one else seems to think the same...apart from mom of course...
And speak of the devil....
She appered in the room again, leaning in the doorway.
"I know apperance is everything with a first impression," She joked, "But the car is here to take us to the airport."
As I contemplated what clothes to wear on the flight, my mom walked in the room.
"Hey hunny, you excited?"
"You bet I am!"
"Good, so am I. And please, wear something sensible!! And don't over do the eyeliner, we don't want you scaring the cabin crew with one of those looks you give when you get tired!"
I laughed as she walked out the room, and decided to put on my black 3/4 lengths with all the lil silver buckles, one of my favorite black hoodies and my black converse. I smuged on some black eyeshadow and some eyeliner on my top and bottom eyelids, then carefully applied some mascara. I was doing my make-up in front of my mirror, one of the only pieces of furniture left in my small room. I finished my make-up, and was just about to walk away, when I stopped and stared at myself in the mirror. I found myself thinking someting that I very rarely thought. I was pretty, not a beauty, but just...pretty. With my dyed black, shoulder length hair with the pink highlights, and my high cheek bones and aquiline nose, my face balanced itself out rather well.
Just a shame no one else seems to think the same...apart from mom of course...
And speak of the devil....
She appered in the room again, leaning in the doorway.
"I know apperance is everything with a first impression," She joked, "But the car is here to take us to the airport."