Not a Normal Day

February 22, 2017
By isabelcastrejon BRONZE, Ann Arbor, Michigan
isabelcastrejon BRONZE, Ann Arbor, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The rain was falling from the sky like bullets in a battle field. Normally, I walk to the transit center with joy. I leave school and walk down the street, taking in the urban atmosphere of downtown Ann Arbor. Most people don’t like going on walks, but I do. I’ve always been a wallflower, a strong observer. I walk, basking in the sun even though the city buildings block it out. I get to smell the street food and be my happiest self. But today was not that day. There was no sun, no delicious aroma. Just pouring rain and honking cars. It was almost as if the happy music playing in the background of a movie stopped playing. Instead of being my joyous self, I was the soaking wet girl on her way to the bus.

The cars honked as everyone drove carefully. The rain was coming down so hard it was covering their windshields, making it impossible for them to drive. I watched the street cautiously, putting a foot onto the road and then pulling it back. There was a car coming and I didn’t even see it. There was only a few seconds left on the cross walk and I didn’t want to wait, so I hurried across. I heard the cars honking as i crossed the busy road. Each time I heard a horn, it felt as if they were now honking at me. Maybe the rain was slowing me down, too. So I began to ran. This was a mistake. The wet pavement was slippery, and being my clumsy self, I fell. I had fallen in the middle of the road.

The car horns surrounded me, making fun of me. If my friends were there, they would laugh at me. They would laugh at the way I slipped on the pavement, and then laugh some more about how I landed straight on my face onto the ground. I would joke with them, finding humor in my own accident. But they weren’t here. Instead of laughing friends, I had honking cars. I began to feel my face tense up with anger. I layed on the road using everything within me to try not to cry.

I tried to get up but noticed that I landed funny on my wrist. To make matters worse, I fell in a puddle. Not just any little puddle, but a large one. A puddle you might see on days like this one, when the rain is pouring. A puddle that a person like me, a girl having a bad day, might fall into. Luckily, my wrist wasnt broken but definitely bruised. I had cuts on my arm from the pavement. After I got myself up, I continued to stand in the traffic, taking in everything that had just happened. How come the people in those cars, the ones that were honking at me, didn’t get out to come help me? Did they realise that I was still holding up traffic? How come me, the soaking wet girl who was already covered in water, was even more soaked after falling in the puddle?
I heard the honking increase. I was still standing there in the middle of the road, taking my time to process my surroundings. This was no normal day. On a normal day, looking down the busy downtown street is a beautiful sight. You can see the sun behind the tall university buildings, fluffy clouds in the sky, people walking and enjoying their day. You can smell the food that fill the streets, and even the food that fill the restaurants. There’s normally musicians playing on the sidewalks for money, creating an atmosphere uncomparable to today. Today was not a normal day. I stood in front of the honking cars, searching for the sun behind the buildings, but there was nothing. I stood there searching for the fluffy clouds, the people, even the slightest smell of food, but there was nothing.

My heart raced uncontrollably as I tried to find a way out. I wanted to get out of the road and away from the honking cars. I wanted to lay back on the ground and humiliate myself some more. But I couldn’t. I had already forgotten about being soaking wet. All I could think about now were the cars that had began driving around me. They didn’t care that a girl fell in the middle of the road, they just cared that that girl was holding up traffic. I was the thing that was holding up their day, and they were the things that were holding up mine. I was the soaking wet girl on her way to the bus.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!