Too Much
Taking It All In
The warm smell of the oven draws me to the kitchen earlier than normal. We haven't had anything more then cereal for breakfast since mom died last year. Those were better times. Everyone was happy and loving. But since the accident, things just havent been the same. dad isn't happy anymore and he has stop writing. I have distanced myself from everyone; friends, family. No one seemed to notice or care. As for my sister, she is young and doesn't fully understand that mom isn't going to be coming back. She is still her happy self.
I enter the kitchen and the smell of cinnamon rolls bring me back to reality. I see Dad helping Sarah putthe icing on the cinamon rolls. I notice how tall ne is, 6'6. He is alsolean and powerfully built. I can see his muscles ripple under hiscrisp white button up shirt. I notice a patch of gray hair forming near his temple. It stands out from his wavy brown hair. I look at Sarah. She is only nine. Yet she is almost as tall as i am. Her warm brown eyes are sparkling as they always are. She gets her eyes from Dad. Her curly brown hair tumbles gentally down her back. Finally i lookat myself in the mirror. I see myself, sixteen years old, almost seventeen. I am short for my age, barely even reaching five feet. I get alot of my features fron my mom, Including my vibrant blue eyes. Our eyes were besically identical. I look at the scar by my right eye brow, and i feelastab of pain as i think of what it is from. I have my soft brown wave hair hair pulledback into a ponytail. It is the only feature iget from my dad.
I enter the kitchen and the smell of cinnamon rolls bring me back to reality. I see Dad helping Sarah putthe icing on the cinamon rolls. I notice how tall ne is, 6'6. He is alsolean and powerfully built. I can see his muscles ripple under hiscrisp white button up shirt. I notice a patch of gray hair forming near his temple. It stands out from his wavy brown hair. I look at Sarah. She is only nine. Yet she is almost as tall as i am. Her warm brown eyes are sparkling as they always are. She gets her eyes from Dad. Her curly brown hair tumbles gentally down her back. Finally i lookat myself in the mirror. I see myself, sixteen years old, almost seventeen. I am short for my age, barely even reaching five feet. I get alot of my features fron my mom, Including my vibrant blue eyes. Our eyes were besically identical. I look at the scar by my right eye brow, and i feelastab of pain as i think of what it is from. I have my soft brown wave hair hair pulledback into a ponytail. It is the only feature iget from my dad.