Whats In My Last Journal

Narrative writting (setting) pt1:Room in the house:

The smell of my flat iron burning up is what reminds me its on as my feet pad across the cold linoleum, shutting the big wood door behind me. Various labels are scattered across the counter ; Mac, cover girl,naked. I pull out my messy ponytail letting the brown mess fall down on my shoulders and I stare at the blank canvas . I go to my little black box of paints and powders picking my lightest shade, I pour it on my brush, smearing the cold paint across my face. I pick the biggest , fluffiest brush I have as I dip it into powder after powder adding color to my pale cheeks. I pull out my dark black eyeliner that brings out my bright eyes. After I Finnish changing my face I pick up the iron flattening my thick lumpy hair. When I'm finished I stare in the mirror wondering how I got this way.