Setting Descriptions-The Old Apartment
Amongst old cardboard boxes and unpacked clothes, Elizabeth and I climbed into our freshly washed sheets with the smell of laundry detergent still imbedded in them. The sheets lay cool against my skin They are soft and the smell is relaxing almost reassuring that I am home. Then Elizabeth climbs up on the bottom bunk and a loud squeak shrivels through my ears. I then realize that this is our new home, an old run down apartment with faded green crayon marks on the walls from a young child that used to live here. I stare up at the ceiling looking at the small hair-line crack above my bed.
The book shelves lay next to the bed awaiting their turn to be hung up on the wall. The books on the floor lay in stacks of which books belong to Elizabeth and what books belong to me. Elizabeth's books all look brand new, as if she had never read them. They probably sat on her book shelves untouched for years, except for the times that we've had to move them. Whereas mine, barely stand in a stack. I had to lean them all against the wall to support this structure of the leaning tower. My books contain pencil marks and finger prints on all of the pages-not to mention some books with broken bindings because of the number of times I have read them.
When Mama said that we were moving to a mansion in Lawrenceville, I should have known better than to believe her. Instead, I am here in a garage apartment at the edge of an estate. Together we live bunched up alongside other people's expanses, close enough to dream. Below, I can hear Elizabeth snoring, she sounded like a lion trying to protect its young. She is like my lion though, protecting me from the unknown. I am not very adventurous and outgoing-instead it is Elizabeth who made friends quickly and became popular. Elizabeth is like a model only focused on material things, and what other people thought of her. Whereas, I am like a journalist seeking from answers and questioning the unknown. What I wanted was knowledge not acceptance.
My mom entered our room the scent of her perfume filled the air. The aroma is like a garden of fresh flowers. She came in to kiss us good-night. There is something about her, her smile that would turn any disappointment into laughter. She always found a way to coax me into liking our new home, no matter how dirty it looked. My mother is like a human heart, the sole organ that keeps the body alive. She is full of order and obedience without her, I don't know how my sister and I would survive. She is what keeps my family going.