Descriptive Paper

The sun poured its radiance out on the boring grey concrete. The breeze was just peachy for a cool autumn morning. It was seven in the morning; my eyes were groggy, my head was faint, and my balance was off. I had just been dropped off by my dad in our metallic grey Noah, and I started to stroll down the checkered brick road that led to school. The whiff of fresh paint in the air made me groan with disgust. Struggling to adapt to the smell, I slowly made my way to the school entrance. I had to bluntly accept the fact that I was here at school, and there was no going back to my napping fantasies for another ten hours.

I reached for the extensively long, white cord dangling from the unnecessarily large hole in my tacky khaki shorts, and placed them into my ears. Electronic Dance Music was the only escape route I could take, and was the only thing that could put me in my happy place. I took each step with precision and caution, afraid that the murky blue paint would dirty my sparkling, shiny new kicks. The sea-like garage looked like an abandoned aquarium that adoptively became home to the cars of the school faculty. My eyes were fixated on the double glass doors ahead of me, preparing to enter with grace and dignity.

As my feet drew near to the door, I took my last step, and slammed right against the rigid glass doors. There was an invisible barrier in front of me that I failed to anticipate. My mind blacked out for a brief moment, and I felt as if I was falling down a rabbit hole. I was blind. I couldn’t see the door. I was humiliated.

I uneasily staggered backwards, unsure of what had just happened. My face immediately flushed red with embarrassment. I couldn’t comprehend how I had openly walked into a door. Although the door had my undivided attention, my forehead still managed to kiss the double panes of glass. My eyes scanned the perimeter around me, hoping that there weren’t any witnesses to the scene of embarrassment. The stinging pain from the blow couldn’t amount to the level of stupidity I was at. I had, unfortunately, become a disgrace to the population of thirteen year olds. 

My ego shrunk to the size of a pea. Nonetheless, a car was approaching, and I needed to get out of sight. In an attempt to retrieve my sense of pride, I stood up and walked towards the door again – only this time, I reached for the door handle. With all my might, I pulled the door open, redeemed myself, and strode through into the doors of the school as if nothing had happened.

Writing Process and Rough Draft

Reflection: This story always comes to mind whenever people ask me to share an embarrassing story of them. Even though my face turns red from stupidity every time I share it, I thought it would be a good thing if I turned it into a story to make people laugh. Dwelling in the heat of the moment would also make it ten times funnier than it actually sounds, and so I tried my best to include as much detail that could elongate the moment. I initially didn’t have enough detail without sounding redundant, but I was able to use different metaphors and synonyms to aid me.