H. JetelinaA Chapter by Abigail MuddimanA character sketchShe was the hardworking type. You know, the one who was way
ahead of her peers, lining up internships left and right while others struggled
to find even an entry level job. She was the social type, too; always being the
host, always finding reasons to get all of her favorite people in one place.
How she did it between her job hunt and her classes, no one knew. But the
important things was that she"with her head bowed over her textbook, frantically
writing notes for the nth hour that day"always got it done, only pausing to appreciate
the caring texts lighting up her phone or laughing at the frat boy rolling
around the library in Heelys. Her laugh was contagious, her work ethic
admirable, and her sass incomparable. She was a force to be reckoned with, but
no one dares to get on her bad side. She wore confidence like it was tailor made to fit her
perfectly, another piece of her put-together demeanor"something any and all
struggling college students begged to have. Nothing stood in her way and, if it
did, she would break it down and have dinner ready by the time you gave up on
the same obstacle. Her attention couldn’t be divided, even though she’d beg to
differ if you asked her. Granted, you’d have to whisper her name more than a
few time in order to tear her eyes from her work, but, by then, your point
would be proven. Everything about her was enviable; from her hair that could
range from red to blonde and still look as great as whatever you thought was
natural to the near designer wardrobe she donned on a daily basis, from being
involved in a tiresome, time consuming sport to hours spent in this intense
concentration. She could hold the keys to any future she wanted. But what was
more intimidating? She knew. She knew all of that. The confidence and drive she fought
for every single day, the perfect outfits and unapologetic sass. She knew all
of her best features in order, so it seemed. But she didn’t know exactly how
much her friendship meant to someone who had none of it. And it meant the
world. © 2017 Abigail Muddiman |
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Added on January 3, 2017 Last Updated on January 3, 2017 Author
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