Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Tackles and Tears free essay sample

I grabbed my gym bag, and trudged out of the locker room, with my head hanging low. My team had just lost its third consecutive football game. Needless to say, I wasnt in the best mood. I passed my coach on the way out, and we made eye contact, which I quickly broke. I didnt want to talk, so I just walked by him. He didnt seem to mind. I stepped outside and the heat hit me like a smack in the face. It was way too hot for October, 90 degrees. I saw my dads yellow pickup in the student parking lot, and I walked towards it, dragging my feet a little. Sweat ran into my eyes. I didnt even try to wipe it off, I just squinted a little and kept walking. When I got to my dads truck, I threw my gym bag in the bed, and climbed in the passenger side. We will write a custom essay sample on Tackles and Tears or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Want to drive? my dad offered. I just shook my head, and directed the air conditioning vent towards my face. Dad pulled out of the parking lot, and made a right. You hungry? he asked. I shook my head no, but he took the growl from my stomach as a yes. He made a right onto Pigeon Hill Road, and we passed the airport. I take it the game didnt go so well? Again, I just shook my head. He stopped trying to make conversation. A couple minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of Foodbarn, a local deli. Dad handed me a ten, and said that he was going to wait in the truck. It was hot and muggy inside the store, and the man behind the counter was fanning himself with a notepad. Can I help you? Yeah, I said, wiping the sweat off of my face, Can I get a foot long turkey sub? Sure thing, he said, as he reached under the counter and grabbed the turkey. While he was preparing my sandwich, a lady walked in with two kids, a boy and a girl. She was a big lady, and had on a purple, moth eaten Winnie the Pooh shirt. It looked like shed ripped it once, and tried stitching it back up herself. Her hair was a wreck on the top of her head, and she had on more eye makeup than was necessary. Her son looked about six years old, and had on a Pokemon t-shirt. Her daughter was even younger, and was wearing an old, yellow dress that was too big for her. She walked by me, towards the checkout counter, with her kids hands firmly in her own. I could smell the sweat on her. My sandwich was ready, and when I took it to the register I heard the lady ask for a carton of cigarettes. I stood behind her. The boy looked back at me, and I smiled at him. He gave a tiny grin, but then quickly looked at the ground, and gripped his moms hand a little tighter. The lady was talking to the cashier, about the heat, and the little girl asked her mother in a hushed voice if she could get an ice cream bar out of the freezer. Her mother ignored her. So the little girl asked again, and this time, her mothe r reached down and smacked the little girls mouth, hard, and said in an angry voice, Cant you see that Im talking! She then turned back towards the cashier, and acted like nothing had happened. The cashier looked surprised, but she didnt say anything. The little girl cried and held her mouth with her free hand. She made high pitched wheezing noises every time she took a breath. Again, her mother stopped talking to the cashier, grabbed the girls arm and shook her hard. Shut Up! she yelled. I was taken aback. I couldnt believe that the mother had reacted so violently towards this little girl. The mother saw me watching, and glared darkly at me. She then paid the cashier, who had a shocked expression on her face, and left the store, half dragging her children behind her. I was in disbelief as I watched her leave the store. I placed my sandwich on the counter, and the cashier rang it up. We didnt say anything to each other. There was nothing to say. She handed me my change, I left the s tore, and got in my dads pickup. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I saw the lady and her children walking along the road. The lady already had one of her cigarettes in her mouth, and the little girl still had tears streaming down her face. Hey, Dad? Yeah, Brandon? Thanks.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.