Descriptive Essay About Opening The Door

I knew I didn’t need to worry about opening the door partly because 1) She hates when someone opens the door for her and 2) She already had it open and was coming inside. Kylee Jade one of my closer friends since our 4th grade school year. Kylee had Butter Pecan brown hair that now had slight streaks of blonde to make it look more “summery” and it reached all the way down to her lower back. Her eyes where that of turquoise, and they had a slight feline shape to them. She was slightly smaller than 5’5, and most would describe her as attractive or hot, but this had only happened recently during the middle of our sixth grade year. She came to me one day “I’m going to remodel myself.” She declared as she sat next to me on the bus partly asleep.

As we walked I looked over at her wearing light blue skinny jeans with a single hole at the knee and a black flowy coat kind of apparel with a white tank top underneath. She had decided that it was too cold and forced her arms around mine to keep warm. This making the walk more of a swig sag sway down the brightly lit street. She smelled of vanilla, which is one of my favorite, and she her lips reminded me of apples fresh from Walmart. As non-exhilarating as this was these are probably my most enjoyable and realistic feeling moments. As great as she looked, I in comparison was wearing a green t-shirt and cargo shorts. I had yet to do anything short of running my fingers through my short messy

She told me of the old WW1 veteran she had met, and how he had survived a plane crash and fought his way to safety with three other soldiers that had also survived. I made sure listen in with enthusiasm party because she knew when I was not paying attention, and partly because I love history. We stopped by Speedway gas-station and we both got our favorite flavors of tea. Kylee’s was half and half, mine was peach flavored. She did always love making fun of me for liking peach flavored tea “That’s what the girl is supposed to get idiot.” She would say. So we walked back toward our houses, but this time we stepped through the small field that sits between Tractor Supply and our street. This path way was home to an area of beat down grass that has always been used to hangout or meetup. The kids who had lived here before us had handed it down to us for whenever we might need to get