Bright blue eyed Ellen was born in Indianapolis in April 1967. From the hospital she came home to a middle class family in a nice neighborhood and life seemed carefree. Ellen grew into a beautiful young lady who got many of the boys attention in middle school. Even as a baby she had a head full of thick dark hair that any woman would be jealous of. Her long slender legs were perfect because she happened to be the star volleyball player at her public high school. Ellen's life for the most part was happy but no ones lives are perfect. Ellen's father suddenly died when she was seventeen from a heart attack. From then one her life was different. Ellen got her first job to help support her family and her grades dropped with less time to study. Eventually she even had to quit the volleyball team.
Ellen was yearning for affection and attention because her loving mother seemed cold hearted now. The one good thing about her job was that she met an older man who seemed like he would take care of her forever. She was so wrapped up in her new love that she accidently got pregnant and had to give her baby up for adoption. It seemed like her life was going downhill until her boyfriend suggested for her to move with him to Chicago because he was getting a good job offer there. She thought it would be a great start to a new life but the good "job" offer eventually landed him in jail. Alcohol eased Ellen's pain but her family back home had no sympathy. Fifteen years later Ellen's hair is thinning and scraggly and her long beautiful legs are scraped and bruised. If you actually look into Ellen's bright blue eyes you may be able to see that she is human just like you and I. Everyone has a story and I hope Ellen's isn't over yet.
3 comments:
The story you wrote for "Ellen" seemed like you really knew her. I really like your ending for it. I hope her story isn't over either.
yeah this seemed really real...i really liked the opening it hooked me!
I liked this one because I think that a lot of times homeless people are seen as less than people. It is important that we remember that they have lives and stories just like us.
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