AP practice essay

As I sit at my desk in the small confines of my shared bedroom, I think what place do I know well? With my music playing distantly, I start reminiscing of the days where I was able to work. Day and night, I memorized it. Stores, mall employees, the theater and how they handle all the mass of people in line for their freshly popped popcorn or syrupy drinks to be served. I mindfully wander through the crowds of the mall, sometimes observing people and sometimes just enlightening myself with my own thoughts.

I know the mall well when it isn't opened and the maintenance is out cleaning up the spilled food or wiping off the graffiti from the walls. I passed all the clothes stores and watch as they fix up the mannequins, hoping that people notice and get them to come to their store.

In the center of the mall, the sunbeams stream from the glass and filter through to reach the surface of my skin as I stand at the 4 way stop. Food court, straight ahead, so I continue on passing jewelers and the smell of a million scents from the Bath and Bodyworks, the ones that tickle my nose like pineapples and flowers. 

I make it to my store, the one that opens 2 hours earlier than the rest. The smell of bread baking and the faint sound of the music being played. I walk up to the glass protecting the meats and vegetables that are waiting to be made into people’s perfect masterpieces. I passed the bright neon “S” that can be spotted from a mile away. Savory, sweet and salty, or tell me what can it mean: sad, savage, scared. I shake off my thoughts and put on my uniform. Then start cutting cucumbers, bell peppers, and strong potent onions. 

I pause once a tear rolls down my face. I turn to grab a tissue and restart the process over. Wash hands, gloves on, cut, put away the prep. I stop once I hear the ringing sound of a bell. A customer, as I walk over with a smile and follow my given script. I study who decided to stop by. Is it the person who wants double tuna and comes every Sunday or is it the girl who stands there on the phone ignoring the one making her meal, the one that smiles even though she is being ignored. 

Tick, tock. That's what goes through my mind as seconds pass before my shift ends. Ding, I take off my hat and apron and sit there. Stretching out my legs and arms from my exhausting day. I begin leaving and stand in the food court. Everyone smiling or stuffing their faces as if their food is going to go somewhere. Kids screaming and running around as their parents do nothing like they're not disturbing others peace. I start leaving the overpowering smell of Italian, American, Mexican, and Chinese food being clashed together into one. 

Back to the way, I came from, but this time I'm stopping and turning, avoiding faces that I haven't fried into my brain. I continue to get out of there as if it is a race to the end of a finish line. The end is so close but why does it feel as I step closer to the end, it gets further. 

Home finally, as I step into the shower and think about my day. I start scrubbing my body with foamy soap and come to a stop, a burn mark from a pan that gave a hot kiss upon my arm. I rubbed it and smiled, a memory from a place that feels like a second home.