Seventeen

Tears soaked through my Cover Girl fresh complexion make up as I walked the dingy concrete path to the newspaper room. For the past three and a half years of my high school career, the hunger I have for journalism has starved the inside of my stomach. Many nights would swim by me, letting my computer screen be the only glow of light reaching my face. The only form of interest, only conversation starters, would be ones involving who is getting interviewed next, who will meet their deadline, and who will sadly lose all of their credibility.
I want to get into a great college...