The Trail (MAJOR EDITING IN PROGRESS)

Part 2: Winter (Edited)

A myriad of smells, colors, people, and feelings greeted me as I stepped from the chrome door into the large indoor plaza. There were three stories to the decked out Hallmark craze; the first floor had gingerbread displays of intricate design, the second floor was devoted solely to Hallmark-like stores and craft shops, and the third floor had a children's area called Crayonland and various shops where actual high quality gifts were kept.

I had gone there many times. Crayonland was filled life-size rubber and foam replicas of paint sets and Crayon houses. Even then, if I had tried to enter, I would have been screamed at for being too old. Times had changed since I was little, everyone assumed teens were troublemakers and were always up to no good. Sometimes that was true and I understood why people were wary of teens being around, most paid more attention to their phones than the world around them. That was why I hated having my phone in public, I felt eyes of judgment following me wherever I went.

I was afraid of becoming like that when I got older. Judging people based on age, instead of on their hearts. People often became what they tried not to be.

I came down there alone, as Holland was out with my dad having a talk about our relationship. My mom was back in the hotel room with my brothers napping, well, she was napping, they were playing quietly with cars on a painted racetrack I made for them.

I saw two other girls my age laughing and walking from a coffee shop to a perfume shop. They were each carrying a scone and small covered cup of what I was guessing was hot chocolate. They were dressed in form fitting teal and lavender shirts with matching Ugg boots. Scarves added decoration around their jewelry clad necks and designer jeans patterned with dark sequins dressed their legs.

I looked down at my own clothing; a baggy pink Cross Country shirt, plain black flip-flops, and gray sweatpants that accentuated nothing. My hair wasn't done up like theirs, in fact, it was in a tangled heap down to my shoulders.

I walked into the perfume shop and browsed the different crystal shaped bottles. At the register were bags of Lindor Truffles, so I grabbed one and hopped in line behind the girls. The brown haired girl pulled a coach wallet out of a small handbag and bought three bottles of perfume with a hundred from her wallet.

I myself stepped up to the register and admired the beautiful fringed shirt the cashier was wearing. Her hair was done up in several braids which framed her perfectly brown face with small weaved strands of black.

As the girls walked out, one commented on the chocolate sitting by the register,

"Those things are sooo fattening," she remarked with pomp to her friend. Her friend nodded and agreed, and then the two giggled their way out of sight.

I pulled out my ducktape wallet from my pocket with two hundred hard earned dollars from my summer job, and handed over the money for the chocolate. The cashier gave me a warm smile of pity as she plucked the change out of the register with her perfectly manicured nails.

Leaving the unattainable behind, I walked down the carpeted hallway. Various ages and colors of people bustled by, each meandering their way towards a set destination. Teenage girls strutted by with their mothers, with both wearing outfits fit for models. Young girls in adorable outfits walked with their parents, the likes which taught them from an early age to be vain.

I smiled at people as I walked by, because it was all I knew how to do. The chocolate in my mouth distanced me even further from everyone, showing that I was the outsider, the mistake. Smells of pastries and steak were everywhere, as was the sound of screaming children, something I was all too familiar with. I walked around a glass guardrail to the Hallmark store and over to the ornaments.