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Post by noelle marie parks on Mar 15, 2010 19:46:28 GMT -5
&&ratta-ta-tah, ratta-ta-tah, ratta-ratta-ratta-ta-tah. The sixteen year old drummed upon the side of her guitar. She had been waiting for over an hour for her scheduled appointment with the mayor for a tour around town- as if she needed it. Her mother had arranged the whole thing and yet, she wasn’t here due to an urgent ‘meeting’ at work and so, Noelle was left to suffer. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything else to do at the apartment until her mom paid for the cable tv, so Elle headed over to town hall, thinking that the mayor or at least his family would get there early enough to start the tour. However, Noelle had guessed wrong and guitar in hand, she played a bit before getting so bored that she began drumming simple beats upon the dilapidated, pink instrument and throwing nearby rocks at some pigeons. Eventually, she ran out of rocks so she gave up on the latter and continued the other.
Noelle sighed, shifting her position on the sidewalk in front of town hall. Her usual outfit- a pair of blue jeans and a shirt that was two sizes than needed- was a bit different today. She wore her favorite jeans seeing that they were the only pair she could fish out of the laundry basket. They were just as ripped up and scratched as her guitar with almost as much skin showing as if she was wearing shorts. Her shirt was just about in the same condition as both, with rips along the side to show a bit of her bra. Her back was covered by a black vest that, unlike the rest of her outfit, was clean and new. This was the total opposite of what her mother had considered ‘nice’. The outfit that had been picked out weeks before the real appointment was a nice flowery dress that Noelle immediately burned behind her mother’s back and so she clearly had an excuse of not wearing it. Luckily and unluckily, her mother wasn’t here for Elle to see her shocked face and that angry expression that seemed to always bring her a laugh.
And speaking of her mother… Noelle pulled out her touch screen phone to the very text her mother had sent her about the meeting. In oblivious text lingo, her mother said, “Elle, cnt m8k it. Meetin @ work. meet da tour in front @ town hall. Plz dress nice O.K? dnt cause trouble. Luv u. mom.” She rolled her eyes, groaning at the fact that her mom tried to be ‘hip’ and text-talk when people(including Noelle) seldom talked that way through text. She preferred proper English, thankyou. Thus, Elle sighed, cupping her face into her hands as she continue her long wait for whoever was assigned to give her the tour her mother had gone to ‘so much trouble’ to arrange. [/size][/font] |
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