Descriptive Essay - Original Writing - 1335 Words

I walked into the house and dropped my book bag on the floor. It made a loud thud against the wood floors. I stood for a moment before taking off my jacket. If Locke had been home, he would have come running and asked what that sound was. Instead, the house was silent. I removed my jacket and hung it up, letting out a sigh. Feeling at ease, I walked into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. The slow cooker sat on the counter. I lifted the lid and a cloud of steam escaped. A roast sat covered in herbs and surrounded by carrots and potatoes. The hunk of meat falling apart told me it was done and I put the lid back on before my urges got the best of me. Locke hated when I ate supper early without him. He was a big fan of eating supper†¦show more content†¦I’d gone straight to the house and packed my bags, then loaded up my car and drove. I don’t remember how I’d gotten there, but I ended up parked at a little country church, passed out in the front seat with a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s between my legs. Luckily, the pastor that found me found Locke’s name at the top of my recent call list in my phone and called him instead of the police. Locke came and rescued me, again. After that, I couldn’t deny the man’s love for me, no matter how much I tried. I looked down at the diamond ring on my right hand. It was an obligation, albeit a beautiful one. It was a promise to marry him one day. No pressure. No dates or timelines. I had to get better first and part of that was getting me out of that place, so that’s what Locke did. In a twist of pure luck, Locke’s aunt was moving into an assisted living facility. She was gracious enough to allow us to live in her house for free, as long as we kept up the maintenance and paid all the bills. I finished my last year of high school and enrolled in the local community college. Between my part time job at the bookstore and Locke’s full time construction job, we paid all the bills and still had money left each month. It wasn’t beyond me that some ray of luck had strayed my way and that I should by all means be living in a gutter. I tried not to accept that it was pity that inspired these people to be so generous towards me. Locke did love me, after all, even if his eyes held a hint