𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄
"𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝐼 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜.."
𝐓𝐰𝐨 high school sweethearts, one tragic ending. Steve Randle and Valerie Renee Danson were the iconic duo. Living their best life, and perhaps, fal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The dismissal bell rang, springing a deep sound as the brass hit against itself on each side. Nonstop chatter replaced the silence of the hallways, almost as if to falsey greet incoming students.
Shoving in all of my supplies, I slung my backpack over my shoulders. Rushing into the crowds of screaming people surrounding the classroom. Approaching my locker down the hall, I picked up the extra folders and notebooks from earlier this morning. Opening my bag and placing each of them inside, then zipping it back up.
Hastily passing through the halls towards the high schools' entrance, I pushed the front doors open. Immediately sprinting to change into more comfortable clothing for later this evening. I began to notice my thin black skirt flying; both because of the autumn winds and my fast pace, I slowed to a walk instead.
Turning left at a street corner, I spotted my home far away. The actual home is in the corner leading to a couldesac, almost hidden with neighboring houses much greater in size. The exterior is partially brick with the other sections a soft, pale yellow. On the outside our house is nicely managed. Minimal flowers and greenery decorating the front yard, and a stone pathway to the homes' porch out front. Light wooden planks fenced the area enclosing our property for both yards.
I ran inside, directly after unlocking the white front door with a spare key kept inside the front pockets of my backpack.
My parents weren't home yet, coming to no surprise as they're usually off work at ten, and home by ten-thirty to eleven. They work across town on the southwestern side-- where the socs live-- causing their drive to be rather time consuming when we're closer northeast.
The house maintained a clean and polished look inside, as we didn't appreciate when bugs would crawl around each and every room.
Directly ahead was the kitchen with bright, pale yellow walls. Cabinets and cupboards were painted white, along with the pantry door containing non-refrigerated food items. The flooring laid itself out with tan hardwood planks. While countertops were similar to marble, only shades of tan and brown instead. Windows displayed themselves behind the sink with half-open half-closed blinds spread across them; allowing natural lighting to shine through onto the floor.
To the left was a living room, the walls the same color as the kitchen, a soft yellow. A red mat detailed with black lines and patterns laid on the gray carpet. Red coverings hid the washed-out gray hue belonging to the couches: one a loveseat, the other with three seats. The loveseat was pushed against a sort of bay window with a miniature coffee table beside it. A small television rested on a fuller sized table against the wall, and centered for viewing purposes from the comfortable crimson couches.
On the right, a guest bathroom, as well as the one I use on a daily. There isn't anything explicitly notable about it. Only a typical bathroom with a porcelain toilet and sink, a framed mirror gently hung above it. And a small cup containing my toothbrush, sitting on the counter near a clear soap dispenser. A shower-bath combination to the right of the toilet. Shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash placed on shelving units inside.
