Back to the city

I thought it was time for a new entry, and since I have some free time tonight, writing will be done. I will probably start writing in a "poetic" style in my next few entries because I like to write out my life as if it was a story. Mostly, my life is a sad, sad, story, but I like being able to use metaphors and stuff in my writing. Bear with me, guys. My writing will hopefully get better.

Sunday: The city skyline came into view, and she felt a knot form in her stomach. She twisted her fingers together nervously, remembering how terrible this city could make her feel. She remembered the insults, the critical glares, the sympathetic smile. And suddenly she wanted to scream, to tell her father to turn the car back around and go home where she wouldn't have to feel such pains.
But then she looked over at her little sister sitting in the front seat, who was surveying the view with curiosity, ready as ever to explore this new terrain.
I can do this, she thought. And then she thought of all the happy memories that were made here, the crazy sixth street nights, the live music, the endless possibilities.
Suddenly, everything seemed to be alright.