Weird Look On Her Face example essay topic

So here I am, microphone in hand, about to sing in front of 100 million people across the world. The cameras are on me, and the audience has fallen silent in anticipation. How did this happen, you ask? How did I, Katie Skipton - an ordinary 15-year-old schoolgirl just a couple of days ago - get to become an overnight superstar? Glad you asked. Sit back, relax, and let me tell you about the craziest day of my life...

Three days ago, my class and I were looking forward to a field trip that we were taking to France. We were studying Europe, and as the whole school knows, the sixth grade class votes on which country in Europe they want to visit. We voted on France this year because that's the language that most of us were learning to speak. Anyway, we were all at the airport waiting impatiently for our flight to come.

People were looking at us funny. I mean, it's not every day you see about 150 kids strolling around an airport with only ten adults. As I was sitting there, bored to death, I saw some of my friends go to the shops and caf " es, so I decided to go with them. We stopped by the bathrooms since most of us really needed to go badly. I always seem to take quite a while going to the bathroom. My friends already knew this, so they said that they would meet me at the caf'e across the hall.

When I was finally done going to the bathroom and washing my hands very thoroughly, I saw that there were three caf " es across the hallway. Which one did they go to? They could have at least had somebody wait here for me. Such good friends they are. Any way, I chose the one that looked most inviting, the one that would attract a lot of teens with its colorful appearance. I stepped inside and wandered around.

Out of all the tables that were in there, none of them seated my friends. I had to find my friends because I didn't know my way back to the waiting room. I went to the next restaurant. I didn't think they would be in here because it looked kind of junky and all I could see was a bar. They wouldn't be allowed there. I had no luck in the last caf'e, either.

Where could they be? I was getting really nervous. What if my class left without me? No, they couldn't do that, could they? The teachers would always check the attendance before they'd leave anywhere, right? Then I remembered Brad, the one who always said "here!" in a girly voice whenever the teacher would call a girls' name, and my heart sunk.

I knew what had happened. The teacher thought it was me when he did that. That's what caused them to leave without me. But maybe it wasn't too late.

I hurried throughout the airport, searching for our waiting room. I kept wandering around, and I came to a waiting room that I thought was the one my class was supposed to be in. The people were boarding the plane, so I got out my ticket and got in line. I figured my class was already inside. The woman took my ticket and put it through the machine. Then she gave me about half of it back.

I stepped into the plane, but before I realized that my class wasn't on here, the doors shut and the pilot began his speech. "Good morning, everyone", the pilot greeted. "Thank you for choosing United Airlines to take you to Italy, where we will arrive in about nine hours. My assistant will go over the safety routine with you".

As the assistant began telling us how to use the oxygen masks, I was frozen. I went up toward her and told her that I couldn't be on this plane because I was supposed to be with my class, but she said it's too late. The plane was about to start moving and everybody was supposed to be seated. There was supposedly nothing she could do about it, or at least nothing she wanted to do about it.

I had gotten a little bit of sleep during the ride. That was pretty good, considering the fact that I was going to be lost a thousand miles away from home across the ocean. As I was thinking about this, I realized that my luggage was on the plane that was probably in France right now. I had no money, no clothes, and no place to stay. I was in pretty bad shape.

When I left the airport, I started walking toward a fast food place called Palazzo Dell " Aliment o. It smelled really good. They served pasta, pizza, and just about every Italian food I had ever heard of. I chose to steal a slice of pizza since I didn't have any money.

As I was reaching for the gooey slice, a customer caught me and yelled out to the clerk. I grabbed the slice and ran. I figured I could outrun the two chubby men pretty easily. I was out on the streets now, and I was taking a whole bunch of turns. I was starting to feel dizzy.

I ran into a beauty salon, the only place that was open at this moment. As I was looking out the window, I saw the men stop and pant. For a moment I was relieved and thought that they had given up, but they turned and faced the parlor. They both looked at each other and starting strutting toward it.

I quickly asked one of the workers there where the women's bathroom was, and I sprinted toward it, hoping none of the men saw me. They stepped in and walked around a couple of times, but one of the hair stylists asked them to leave if they were going to keep walking around. One of them turned their head toward the bathroom door, so I quickly ducked out of sight. Once the coast was clear, I slowly stepped out of the bathroom. Aggravated that they didn't find me, they stomped out and slammed the door.

I took a great big sigh of relief and then began to eat my slice of pizza that I had worked so hard for. It was pretty cold and gross by now, but it was better than nothing. When I was all finished with the pizza, I slowly stepped out of the bathroom. The men would surely still be out there and looking for me, so I knew I needed a disguise. Since I was in a beauty salon, it shouldn't be too hard to find one. There was a small turn table with shelves full of hair dye, so I grabbed a bottle of black hair color and went back into the bathroom to change my very noticeable blonde hair into common black hair like most Italians have.

I wet my hair like it said to and then poured the black dye into my hair. As I was drying my hair 10 minutes later, I heard the door slowly open, so I grabbed everything and ran into the nearest stall. I peaked out of the little crack by the stall door and saw a small girl standing by the mirrors and admiring her new hairdo. There was nothing to worry about. I stepped out of the bathroom stall and started walking to the door pretending like everything was normal. I noticed the girl studying me with a weird look on her face, then the look changing to surprised and excited.

She gasped. Once I stepped out of the bathroom, I covered my face hoping that one of the employees didn't notice that I was the girl with the blonde hair. Unfortunately, though, a woman did see me, but she didn't look angry". Hello, I'm Lucia! I'm sorry; I didn't notice you coming in! I can seat you over here right away, if you'd like.

It's on me."Oh, no, that's okay, really", I stammered. "Melita, please, it will be my pleasure", Lucia convinced. "I will give you a makeover, not that you need one or anything. It's just good to have variety, right?" Just then, the girl I had seen in the bathroom earlier walked out and ran over to me. "Can you please sign this?" she asked timidly. In her hand was a picture of a girl that looked just like me, with the black hair.

She was standing on a stage and holding a microphone. It looked like a concert. I realized then that these people were mistaking me for her, a famous singer! I decided to play along with it.

I would tell them later, once I got a plane ride back home. It was just innocent fun, right? I mean, I didn't have any money, so what else could I do?" Of course", I stated with a smile. I was about to sign it as sloppily as I could, just like a famous person really would, when I realized I didn't know what my name was.

I was trying to think of the name that Lucia had called me earlier. Melita - that was it! After I signed it, the girl looked at it in admiration for a few seconds, then came back to life and thanked me. Lucia did end up making me look very glamorous when she was done with my makeover. I actually did look kind of like a celebrity. When I thanked her and said goodbye, I walked out of the parlor and looked around for a clothes store.

I may have looked like a celebrity, but my clothes sure didn't. I at least needed to find something else to wear since the two men that were out looking for me would probably remember what the clothes I was wearing at the moment looked like, since they had been chasing me for what seemed like an hour. The people on the streets all pointed at me and took pictures. I smiled and posed for some of them.

It was fun until I remembered what I was there for in the first place. I needed clothes. I didn't have any money, but hopefully the owner of the clothes store would do the same thing that Lucia did. Fortunately, Melita was some kind of deity in Italy, because everybody seemed to know and like me. I got a new, attractive sundress and some beach sandals for free! Even newscasters were showing up and trying to interview me!

The only thing I worried about was the fact that the real Melita was out there somewhere, probably looking at me on television right now and getting upset because she was supposed to be getting the attention. I mean, who wouldn't want it? Maybe she was sick of it, but I sure wasn't. I wanted more! I must have caught celebrity fever. I was happy about it until I found out how deep into trouble that fever could take me.

Later that night, I had checked into a big, fancy hotel. My room was about the size of my dad's house in Las Vegas. It even came with two private butlers and 24 hour room service. And, of course, it was all for free. Usually hotels don't give things away to people, famous or not, but they practically begged me to come since it would be good publicity for them. I decided I wanted to go outside and take a walk for more attention, so I got on a pair of clogs, got my beaded poncho, and set off for the elegant front doors.

When I stepped outside in the private parking lot, where they don't allow people that aren't residents, a luminous, white limo pulled up along the walkway. The window rolled down, and there sat my identical twin. "Get in", she snapped. I hesitated. What was she going to do to me? She was most likely incredibly infuriated.

I mean, I was like an identity theft. The seriousness of the situation began to sink in. "Are you going to come, or am I going to have to get you myself?" she threatened. "I'm coming", I managed to choke out. I probably sounded really pathetic to her. The driver stepped out of the limousine and opened the door for me.

I stepped in and sat face to face with the real Melita and her bodyguards. "So", she started. "I see you " ve been enjoying yourself."I'm sorry! I'm willing to tell the public what I've done and go back home. In fact, I'll do it right now". As I reached for the door, she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her.

"Not so fast", she warned. "If you liked experiencing the fun parts of being Melita, you haven't been anywhere yet. "What's that supposed to mean?" I stammered. "You " ll see", she said. "Just wait". I was immediately beginning to regret ever agreeing to go on this stupid school trip.

If I would have just listened to my parents and stayed home like a lot of other kids, I wouldn't have been in this mess. Well, actually, when I decided that, I had no idea I would ever get on the wrong plane because my so-called friends wouldn't wait for me. I guess it really wasn't their fault. I mean, I did take a long time, like always, to go to the bathroom. Melita interrupted my thoughts when she said, "Here we are!"Where?" I asked fretfully. "At my - I mean, your - concert", she smirked.

"Wh-what? !" I screeched. "You " re not serious! I can't sing! Besides, it will make you look bad since you " re the one that everyone is mistaking me as."Exactly", she began to explain.

"You will have a nervous breakdown in front of 100 million people and admit, like you said you were so willing to do, that you are a fraud. Then, I will walk out on stage and save the night."You can't do this!" I pleaded. "People I know might be watching, and I'm going to humiliate myself in front of all of them!"That's not my problem", she argued. "You got yourself into this mess, so you " re going to get yourself out. Now, come on!" She started dragging me into the stadium with her bodyguards, who were surrounding us in every possible place I could have escaped through. She continued to drag me until we were behind a thick curtain and I could hear the excited murmurs of an audience.

"Here you go", she said as she shoved a microphone into my hand and pushed me out through the middle of the opening curtain. So, as I said, here I am, microphone in hand, about to sing in front of 100 million people across the world. Instead of admitting that I was an impostor, though, I decided to actually sing like the audience was expecting me to. When the music started, I thought of a random song from America that came to my head first - Oops I Did It Again - and decided I would sing those words along with Melita's music. My voice was a little rusty, but the audience believed I was Melita after a minute of making confused faces at each other.

They just ended up believing that I switched the words around. About three minutes into the song, after Melita realized the audience actually liked me, she stormed into the middle of the stage and started shrieking at the audience. Security came in and carried her off, assuming she was just a fanatical fan of mine that just looked like me. The concert ended up okay, and after seeing it, my family bought plane tickets right away to come see me. Since Melita was in jail for threatening a superstar - me - I got to take her place. Still, nobody but my family and I know that.

We now live in a nice mansion close to a beach that we visit almost daily. Having lived and gone to school in Italy for the past two years, I have learned how to speak Italian. Now this life is regular for me and I don't plan on having it changed anytime soon. It can get kind of boring sometimes, with life being so perfect and all. I usually watch TV when I'm bored, so I think I'll do that right now. When I turned on the TV, the news channel was on.

A girl that looked just like me - in fact, I think it was me - was walking down the street and getting a lot of attention. I figured maybe this was from a long time ago, but then I saw that I was watching "live" TV. That couldn't be the real Melita, because she's been in jail for two years and will still be in jail for two more. It must be another... fake.