Alannah | Teen Ink

Alannah

November 21, 2011
By Anonymous

Character Sketch

As we walked into her house, the door creaked, and I noticed it was staying on by only a hinge. I could hear muffled rap music playing from behind a closed door that was down the hall, despite how late it was, and the smell of Ramen noodles and body spray was overpowering.
“Home, sweet home,” Alannah muttered as she rolled her eyes. Her steps so soft on the linoleum floor that they didn’t make a sound.
“Don’t be so sarcastic!” Everyone in town knew she hated it here, that it wasn’t enough for her.
“Whatever, you’re my friend not my mom. Just be quiet before my real one hears you, she hates bein’ bothered.”
“Aight.” There was no use arguing with her, ever.
We walked down the narrow hallway to her bedroom as quietly as we could, but she was way better at it then I. Once there, she stood looking longingly into the mirror, like she could see the life she wanted right in that piece of glass. When I stood up next to her, even though we looked so similar, it was obvious we were different. Dark jeans, flashy skate shoes, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, skinny but strong figures. Everyone here is strong-jumping fences, getting in fights, running away-it all makes you stronger. As to emphasize that, Alannah flexed her arm muscles in the mirror, like always, scowling at the chisled biceps that popped out. Mine looked the same, but I was proud of them. There was only thing different about our physical appearance-the golden hoop earrings she wore that had her name through the middle. She had bought them one day she had went into the city a few years ago, and had them every day since. She cherished those earrings. It was when you looked into our eyes that you could immediately tell we were nothing alike on the inside. She had a fire within her, a burning passion that wanted more and wouldn’t stop until she got exactly that. Behind her pretty, popular face was an Alannah that just wanted to forget everything she had ever known and move on, and it was bursting to come out.

“I need to get out of this place.”

“Believe me, I know you do.”

She frustratedly threw herself backwards onto her bed, “you don’t get it,” she groaned. “No one gets it, no one here at least. Everyone lives here perfectly fine with the way they live and the way everything’s working out, but I don’t understand how that’s good enough for you people! People get stuff stolen, nobody has a decent amount of money in their wallet, every kid knows how to scale a fence just because that’s how many times they’ve had to run from someone. No one makes it anywhere from here,” She punched the bed, obviously frustrated.

“Ohhh...”

“But I will! I’m gonna make it big, you’ll see! One day it’ll be me living in one of those skyscrapers, with a good job, all the money, and being happy. You know I’d never get that here, right? Right. I hate this house and this town and these people! I mean, ‘cept for you ‘cause you’re the first person I’ve ever told all this to flat out.”

“Really? Thanks.” I was pretty flattered, Alannah always kept her secrets to herself. I was the closest thing she had to a “best friend” around here, and she was the same for me. It was like she was pouring her heart out to me, and I had no idea what to say.




She stood up from her bed, running her fingers through her hair, and turned to face right at me. “This isn’t the place for me, but it is the place where you’re not gonna tell anyone what I said. Seriously, don’t tell anyone.” Her eyes were piercing into me, pressuring me to answer.

“Well, duh. Don’t worry I won’t.”

“Good. I’ tired.”

The next morning I woke up to the shouts of her and her mom screaming at each other, and it sounded like an argument that had started a long time ago.

“Whatever!” I heard Alannah shout. She came into her room, looking horrible as ever. Sitting down on a small stool in front of the mirror, she started to put her make up on. It seemed like such an odd time to be doing her make up, but then again, Alannah never did anything without her hair and make up to perfection. It’s like she tried to hide her ambitious soul behind layers of mascara, concealer, and hairspray. It’s like she wasn’t just hiding from the rest of our suburb, but from herself.

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece for Creative Writing class

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