Character study results

So... this week for Creative Writing we moved on to Fiction. Awesome right? Not... So, after I procrastinated for a week, I started writing my character study. There were like a gajillion questions I had to answer about some made up character. And then we had to write the first few paragraphs of the story about the character... soo this is what i came up with...

The first time she heard “Cadillac Ranch”, she was riding in a Jeep with her dad and they were going to the cabin in the woods. They were singing loudly, as they busted through the tree branches hanging low over the dirt road. That was her earliest memory and one of her happiest. It was always the one she thought of when she was standing in the fluorescent light of the fridge. Makenzie slammed the refrigerator door and shut her eyes tightly. She shook her head a little, almost as if she were literally  shaking the memory from her mind. Like an etch-a-sketch, she always hoped that she could just shake it with both hands and she could start over new on a fresh, blank screen.

Somehow she always went through the battle, trying so hard to refuse that bottle, but always giving in to the urges. Her hands shook as she attempted to smooth the furrows between her eyebrows. Tears filled the corners of her eyes and the back of her throat ached. She rested her head against the fridge door and prayed to God. Prayed for everything she could think of. Prayed for some sort of release. She knew it might never come.

       As she stepped back from the refrigerator, the phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. It was her mother, again. She was always calling, making sure she was ok. Always asking too many questions, pushing too many buttons. After the first few questions, she would just turn off and stop listening, just mumble some “mmhmms” and “yeahs”. Eventually her mother would get the hint and say goodbye followed by an “I love you”. And Makenzie would always respond with a “you too”. The L word never made it across her lips, except to her Daddy.

       She almost made it to the living room after the answering machine finally picked up. And then she stopped, listening to her mother’s message, and she walked back to the kitchen. She ran her fingers through her chestnut brown hair and reached for the fridge handle. She yanked open the door and quickly grappled for the bottle of red wine, popping the cork and gulping down the sweet liquid without even taking a breath. Every motion hasty and fumbling, as if someone might be watching. The more she gulped, the faster the numbness would come.