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Eye of the Storm

Grace+Anderson+is+a+junior+at+Franklin+High+School+%28located+West+of+Huntsville%29.+She+has+taken+several+online+courses+at+UTPB+through+the+dual-credit+program.+She+wrote+this++story+in+an+English+1302+online+course.+
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Eye of the Storm

Grace Anderson is a junior at Franklin High School (located West of Huntsville). She has taken several online courses at UTPB through the dual-credit program. She wrote this  story in an English 1302 online course.

Grace Anderson is a junior at Franklin High School (located West of Huntsville). She has taken several online courses at UTPB through the dual-credit program. She wrote this story in an English 1302 online course.

Grace Anderson is a junior at Franklin High School (located West of Huntsville). She has taken several online courses at UTPB through the dual-credit program. She wrote this story in an English 1302 online course.

Grace Anderson is a junior at Franklin High School (located West of Huntsville). She has taken several online courses at UTPB through the dual-credit program. She wrote this story in an English 1302 online course.

Grace Anderson, Guest Writer

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Gray clouds blotted out the sky as I walked home. Three days it had been like this, rainy, cold, and worst of all, grey. The color grey follows me around like a sad puppy, nipping at my heels pitifully. My shoes squelch on the dark sidewalk as I trudge my way home.

Today was the worst day this week. It’s like I am invisible! No one spoke to me all day, not that this is a change from usual, but today it feels more like I am being ignored than being feared. I’ve always been the odd one out. I am the quiet, artsy, creepy kid that people don’t see as approachable. I spend my days in class watching the gloomy, dripping weather outside that seems to perfectly match my mental state. I can’t seem to care about anything during the day. Everything just melds together into one large beige blob of time that I can never sort out. But as soon as I get home everything changes. But for now, the only scenery I have are the bland buildings surrounding me. I can’t believe those kids just ignored me when I asked what they got on the homework, I wasn’t trying to cheat I just wanted to check my answers to make sure I was doing it all right! The slight drizzle turns into a downpour, drenching my thin coat and freezing me to the core.

The unforgiving grey blandness of the city melts away as my heels crunch on deep brown earth instead of the damp grey concrete. The farther I walk down this little dirt road the easier it is to hold my head up high and smile. The rain that was once a thick sheet turns into a light mist under the bright green tree canopies. Breathing gets easier while the thick town smoke leaves my lungs and is replaced with evergreen sharpness. My puppy Rosie bounds up to me, running like a bunny as she always does shaking her mismatched ears all around. I can finally see the sunlight through the thin layer of fluffy white clouds when she knocks me over onto the green grass. My face sprouts a smile that mirrors the sun, brilliant and true.

She races around me yipping and snarfing at my hands until I finally get her to calm down and let me pet her. I swear she still thinks she’s a puppy but her fifty-pound frame is not so easy to play with safely. I sprint to the house with her trailing behind me just like I taught her. I can’t believe she’s already so big. We make our way inside and up to my room on the third floor. For a while, it is peaceful with her sleeping on my bed and me calmly reading and drawing in my journal. Then the door slams. Dad is home and he brought the sheet of rain and thunder with him. His footsteps pounded up the stairs shaking the house worse than the thunder outside. Fear wells inside me and I lock the door before he can get to it. It’s silent outside, I can somehow hear my own breathing over the pounding in my chest. The doorknob rattles once, then twice, then his rage-filled booming voice breaks over the silence and a crash of lightning.

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