Pleasanton Descriptive Writing

Holding my breath, I slowly put my right foot onto the sidewalk of the next street. Nothing distractly changed but you could tell there was something different. We were not in Union Square anymore. The line between the famous and rich Union Square and Tenderloin were quite close and it was easy to find yourself lost and in the wrong parts of San Francisco. I let out the breath I was holding and breathed in the stale air. There was an unpleasant sweet odor, the smell of sewage and trash adding to my growing disgust. The sidewalk was cracked and rough and I had to look at the ground to catch myself from falling. Shadows seemed to pop out from every corner and it seemed like anyone could pop out at me and my mom at any second. You never know what is in the dark, it covers up everything, hiding it. The darkness seemed thick, like fog and even the street lights seemed dim. The moon, a new moon did not contribute at all to the growing darkness. Hunched over people creeped by us, most of them minding there own buisness, some muttering to themselves or someone near them. They were quite different than the clean, perfect citizens of Pleasanton. With

We were trying to go to the Piers for dinner and decided to take the bus, not realizing how dark it would be or in what neighborhood. We were walking as fast as we could, almost running down the street to the bus stop, praying that know one would stop to talk to us. My mom held her purse to her chest so tightly that her knuckles turned white. You always hear of robbers and shootings in the Tenderloin on the news and you could never be too careful. As we rushed along we were stopped by a voice behind us. I close my eyes muttering to myself “no, no, no, no, no” He creeped up, directing his attention to us. I could barely tell what he was saying. “........... please money? ……. money please for the unfortunate …..