Kiarah (key-air-rah) short story for writing class

                                            KiarahDear Miss Jackson,We are pleased to inform of your acceptance into the Julliard School of the Performing Arts…”             I just had to reread it to make sure it was actually happening. All of this feels like a long, drawn out dream from Heaven. I’m just waiting for God to wake me up. I smiled and put the letter away. My name is Kiarah Marie Jackson. I am sixteen, although most people guess me around thirteen because I’m really short-4 feet, 10 inches to be exact. I have brown hair that’s usually in a ponytail. I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Most of those t-shirts have to do with music or musical theatre. Today, it’s blue jeans and my latest favorite play turned movie-Wicked.            So how did I get here? I graduated early from William-McKinley High School in Sandusky, Ohio. My parents love and believe in me so much that they allowed me to move across the country to play piano, write songs, and sing all day for four years! This isn’t college! I’ve died and gone to Heaven! A tall man with black hair, a Green Day shirt and a guitar case jarred my train seat, interrupting my thoughts.            “Hey army brat! He said, referring to the sticker on my gig bag, “you can’t take up the entire cargo space with your keyboard!”Ugg. Guitar players think they’re so cool. They think they know everything. I stood up and gently nudged my keyboard to make a space. Guitar boy shoved his Peavey next to it, almost knocking it on the floor.             “Hey! I had to save baby-sitting money for that! Watch it!”“Oh it’s a keyboard, brat. It’s not like you play a real instrument “            The train stopped. Julliard’s campus was within walking distance. I carefully picked up my luggage and left. In five minutes, I was there-Julliard. All the hours of choir rehearsal, piano recitals, and voice lessons had paid off. I had finally made it here. Lord, thank You for getting me to this point. Now please help me to make a good impression. Amen. I took a deep breath and opened the heavy oak door of the main building.            “Kiarah Jackson?” A petite black woman with her hair in a bun, a red blouse and black skirt came toward me.            “Yes?”            “Hi I’m Carla Thompson. I’m your admissions counselor. Your mom called to say you may be running late. She said you had to fly here, take the shuttle to the train station, and then ride a half hour to get to campus. You must be so tired. Where are you from, anyway?”            “Sandusky, Ohio. I am very tired. Thanks for waiting for me.”            “No problem. I like to get to know my students. I’ll have your file for as long as you’re with us. So if you have any questions, let me know. You’ll be happy to know your dorm application has been approved. Freshman room assignments are down the hall. It’s the last door on the right.”            I got to the room just in time.            “Kiarah Jackson, room 204.”Exclaimed a tall and perky girl as she handed me the key. I thanked her and headed to the dorms. That’s when I saw him.            “Guitar boy?!” I blurted. “How did you get here?”            “I was just about to ask you the same thing, brat. You seem too cute and perky to be here.”            “What’s that supposed to mean?”            “Never mind. I just didn’t peg you as being so dedicated.”            “First impressions can be misleading.”            “What’s your name anyway, brat?”            “Kiarah.”            Guitar boy scrunched his face.            “What?”            “Nothing. It just sounds like your parents named you after a Disney princess or something.”            “What’s your name?”            “Matt.”            “Matt…normal, boooooring. At least my name is unique.” I said, playfully jabbing him. THE END…for now…Note to reader: This is more like the end of the first chapter, not the end of the story. What started as a short story idea based on my ex-boyfriend and me has blossomed into a small novel. (Well, at least it’s a novel in my head.) The only reason why I’m stopping now is because I have a word limit. (I hate those, by the way.)

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Wow That a great opening chapter for you book. Keep them coming :>)