This image is copyright KD Rankins
http://kdrankins.tripod.com
http://kdrankins.tripod.com
Out of all the people in the world, I was lucky enough to meet Anali Rebecca Smith. Every morning, I see her slouching, facing her shy eyes to the ground; walking to the bus stop. Her brown eyes, if you're lucky enough to see them, hold a shine of brilliance, fear, timidness, and sadness in them all at the same time. Anali always manages to keep her thick, tangled hair in front of her eyes; never wanting people to have a hint of who she is. If she says anything it is only a slurred mumble or a quiet whisper into my ear. Her clothes are always a mess -- somehow always mangles up. At a glimpse, Anali is a sad sight.
After arriving at school Anali attempts to hide herself among the crowd. However, porr Anali is't like anyone else, and can't. For instance, Anali is a superb artist but doesn't enjoy people looking at her work. One day, we were assigned the task of painting ourselves. Anali's painting was a perfect painting -- it was like a mirrored image of the sad, dirty face I see every day. The art teacher said loudly, so loud the whole class could hear, "That, students is art. If dear Anali wasn't so shy, her paintings would sell for the price Monet's. It looks so authentic, but there is something wrong with it. The painting reflects how unhappy you are with yourself. You are the perfect example of someone who can change the world -- if only they could bear to live with themselves." Anali's face turned beet-red and a hot anger reached her wet brown eyes. "How dare he examine me, like I was some biology project to pull apart in front of the class!" she said in a harsh whisper. She ran to the bathroom and I followed her, trying to be of some comfort, but it was no use. And I knew that when the sweet Anali got upset no one could calm Anali but Anali. She hid in the bathroom for the rest of the period.
One day, we were asked to examine the feelings of an outcast in the story we had read. Anali's, as usual, was by far the best essay in the class. When we got back our papers, I could tell by the rare smile on Anali's class that she had received a perfect score. When I took a small glance at her paper, my suspicions were confirmed and I was happy -- I was pleased with my grade and was happy for Anali too. She deserved all the happiness she could muster. But to my sadness, the smile went off her face when our teacher announced that Anali, having written the best essay, was to read hers aloud. Her face turned white as her fellow students whispered about how "typical it was for the geek to read their essay" -- that at least they were "cool". Anali said in a quiet yet firm voice, "I shall not read aloud for these students are too ignorant to realize when something is good and are so shallow that their prejudices would make it so they could not even appreciate my writing if I were Edgar Allen Poe. " The teacher remained silent until the bell rang, declaring that class was dismissed. Anali was so upset, however, that she would not go to school for two whole days. When I had a public presentation to do, Anali made sure to help me write it and, as shy as she was, she made sure she was heard above everyone -- rooting for me. She didn't want her humiliating experience to happen to anyone else.
Here is a portrait of someone very special. Anali is very sensitive -- but not just for herself -- for others too, She's always there to help, she's brilliant too. But poor Anali doesn't know how special she is. The sad face that greets me every day saddens me. After all, Anali is probably one of the best friends I've ever had.
After arriving at school Anali attempts to hide herself among the crowd. However, porr Anali is't like anyone else, and can't. For instance, Anali is a superb artist but doesn't enjoy people looking at her work. One day, we were assigned the task of painting ourselves. Anali's painting was a perfect painting -- it was like a mirrored image of the sad, dirty face I see every day. The art teacher said loudly, so loud the whole class could hear, "That, students is art. If dear Anali wasn't so shy, her paintings would sell for the price Monet's. It looks so authentic, but there is something wrong with it. The painting reflects how unhappy you are with yourself. You are the perfect example of someone who can change the world -- if only they could bear to live with themselves." Anali's face turned beet-red and a hot anger reached her wet brown eyes. "How dare he examine me, like I was some biology project to pull apart in front of the class!" she said in a harsh whisper. She ran to the bathroom and I followed her, trying to be of some comfort, but it was no use. And I knew that when the sweet Anali got upset no one could calm Anali but Anali. She hid in the bathroom for the rest of the period.
One day, we were asked to examine the feelings of an outcast in the story we had read. Anali's, as usual, was by far the best essay in the class. When we got back our papers, I could tell by the rare smile on Anali's class that she had received a perfect score. When I took a small glance at her paper, my suspicions were confirmed and I was happy -- I was pleased with my grade and was happy for Anali too. She deserved all the happiness she could muster. But to my sadness, the smile went off her face when our teacher announced that Anali, having written the best essay, was to read hers aloud. Her face turned white as her fellow students whispered about how "typical it was for the geek to read their essay" -- that at least they were "cool". Anali said in a quiet yet firm voice, "I shall not read aloud for these students are too ignorant to realize when something is good and are so shallow that their prejudices would make it so they could not even appreciate my writing if I were Edgar Allen Poe. " The teacher remained silent until the bell rang, declaring that class was dismissed. Anali was so upset, however, that she would not go to school for two whole days. When I had a public presentation to do, Anali made sure to help me write it and, as shy as she was, she made sure she was heard above everyone -- rooting for me. She didn't want her humiliating experience to happen to anyone else.
Here is a portrait of someone very special. Anali is very sensitive -- but not just for herself -- for others too, She's always there to help, she's brilliant too. But poor Anali doesn't know how special she is. The sad face that greets me every day saddens me. After all, Anali is probably one of the best friends I've ever had.
