Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of “All that Glitters is Not Gold” (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (01/24/08)
TITLE: My Greatest Treasure
By Ally Brown
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Restless I pulled down my skirt and fiddled with my shirt trying to get it not to reveal more cleavage than it already had that night. My feet were scraped raw by the straps of my shoes that I bought especially for this night, but now looked like black monsters attached to my feet. Fumbling with the straps I manage to kick them off and stretch my screaming feet. My hair felt stiff and the makeup on my face seemed to gain a pound by the second. All I wanted to do was sleep, my eye lids felt like they were made of stone and I struggled to keep them open. I slipped in and out of a doze while couples came in and out of the room, but I paid no attention to them.
Next thing I knew, my wonderful Becca was leaning over me, the flowery scent of her perfume filling my head over the stench of the spilled beer next to me. She leaned down and smoothed my ruined hair away from my face. “Elle, how do you get yourself into these kinds of messes?” I couldn’t look at her, I was too ashamed.
Putting my arm over her thin shoulders she helped me down the stairs and outside to the car without even asking me what happened to my shoes. People watched me leave, but I knew not many of them would remember a thing by Monday.
My body made of sand bags she settled me in the back of her car with her coat thrown over me like a blanket. She doesn’t say a word, she just drives her face illuminated by the yellow light of the street lamps. But to me in my state she looks like an angel with beautiful white light streaming from her caring face. Every once in awhile she looks back to check on me, I see the worry in her eyes, I know she wants to know what I did. But I could never tell her, I would have to remember it first. We sit in that car, the silence warm like a fuzzy blanket. She doesn’t drive me home, instead she takes me back to her house since her parents wouldn’t be home till Sunday.
Up in the bathroom she holds my hair while I eject the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Even after I’m empty I continue heaving, my body still trying to rid itself of all the toxins that had once filled it. But Becca stayed with me, gently rubbing my back while I sobbed at the vile, stench-filled water.
Drying my tears she settles me in her bed and then proceeds to sleep on the floor to keep watch over me. I wake only once more, I watch her sleep, her delicate eye closed rimmed by thick, black eyelashes and her chestnut hair spread out across the pillow as though blown by an invisible wind. She seems to glow and the last thing I see is the greatest treasure a person could ever have in life, the one friend that will pull you through it all.
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