Fumbling through my big black bag, I
finally managed to pull out the key to my small condo in the middle of downtown
Toronto. I gladly accepted working overtime at the small local café down the
street, without thinking about the music class I now had five minutes to sprint
to. College tuition had been put first on my list of things to pay off, so
sadly I could not afford a car. Unlocking the door, I scurried towards my bedroom
so I could change out of my work clothes. There was no way I was going to class
with a frilly white apron and a name tag with “Ava” written in a romantic font.
“Hi Sam, hi Ella!” I said to my two
turtles who were blankly staring at me from their glass cage. They were the only family I had in Toronto, and cared greatly for them. I always wondered
what they thought of me since I was always flying back and forth from work to
class. They never really got a chance to see me without a stress line painted
across my forehead.
The apron got stuck when I tried to
untie it, so I tried pulling it over my head. I was in such a hassle that I
knocked my glasses off my face and tripped over them, only to leave me face
down on the hard wood floor. I laughed at myself through my clumsiness, and
pulled myself off the floor. I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, having
to cuff them since I was so short. I found a pair of sneakers, and tied up the
laces quickly almost tying my fingers in with them as well.
I ran out of my bedroom and over to
my piano where I had yesterday’s theory homework scattered everywhere. When I
was little, my mom forced me to take piano lessons. I always dreaded my lessons
and rarely practiced, until one day when she took me to a music store and told
me I could pick out anything I want. I picked out a Coldplay sheet music book,
and absolutely fell in love with my instrument. I then realized playing piano
was my one and only passion. So right after high school, I packed my bags and
moved across the country, by myself, to Toronto so I could attend an arts
school.
Not even bothering to look in a
mirror, I ran out the door and down the street hoping to catch a bus so I wouldn’t
be as late. I was on my way when I ran into someone, and my sheet music and homework
flew everywhere. Oh, just great!
*Change in perspective*
I was late for class and running to
catch a bus, when I fell in the path of a girl running in the opposite direction.
I knocked her to the ground causing all of her papers to fly everywhere.
“I am so sorry,” I mumbled offering
her a hand up. She had a petit frame, and I was pretty scared I had broken
something since I was the stereotypical football player towering over six feet
with muscles galore.
“Thanks,” she said blushing and not
wanting to make eye contact.
Her long, black wavy hair was
blowing in all directions, as well as the papers. I noticed she had thick
glasses on with vibrant blue eyes hidden behind them. I was getting distracted
from the simple beauty of her presence. I woke myself from my trance and
began to pick up the papers that surrounded us. I glanced back at the girl, to
only see a small tear escape her eye as she organized the sheets in her hands.
I quickly rushed to her side with the rest of the papers, and brushed the tear
from her eye. Her skin was icy cold, but the burning from her cheeks was still
present. I could tell she was very shy, but there was something about this girl
that was so interesting.
“I’m Liam,” I said looking down into
her breathtaking eyes.
“Ava,” she replied.
She quickly walked away taking her
papers, and also my heart as she scurried to the bus stop.
Not only was writing itself really well done, I also love how you used two different perspectives, as many people view themselves differently than others do, and your transition was seamless. I really liked it. :)
ReplyDelete(Did you work together woth some other girls? I'm pretty sure this is the third story in a row I've read that took place in Toronto, and the second one with a lover named Liam... Haha. :) )
I agree with Brianna, I thought it was very interesting how you included two different perspectives. Its also strange because my piece of writing also took place in Toronto.
ReplyDelete