should i finish this or is it basically a pice of useless sh*t?

It was a beautiful evening. The sun was slowly melting into the white ribbons of clouds, and the rosy pink sky transforming it into something much darker. Sort of a marble blue sprinkled with powdered sugar stars. The moon was a bright crescent, and when its light hit my hair, it made it appear as though it was silk. Bright, fiery orange silk that is. My father would always tell me that I was a spitting image of my mother. We both possessed the wavy flame hair, the cucumber green eyes, the soft ivory skin, and the dark coal eyelashes. The funny thing was my face was free of freckles. I was glad about that though. I preferred my face spot free.
I was sitting in the park on my favorite bench. It was worn and weathered, the wood was gradually falling apart, and only one spot of the old white paint remained. Today was Wednesday, the last day of school before winter break. A thick blanket of snow embodied the damp evening earth, making the brown stems of grass vanish. The tree tops also wore the same heavy blanket of snow, making the tree trunks weak and limp. I shivered in my heavy winter coat, and wrapped it around me tighter. The cold had turned my cheeks a warm flushed pink, which boldly stood out on my pale face.
I checked my watch to find that it was almost nine o’ clock. My dad would be worried about me, and I thought it would be nice to get inside our warm oven of a house. I stood up from the bench and brushed some fallen snow off of my jeans. My hands were frozen inside my cream wool gloves, making it hard to move my fingers. The good thing was, I only lived three streets away and if I ran I could get there in about three minutes. I decided it was time to run. As I ran my throat instantly dried, making it feel cracked and uncomfortable. I tried swallowing as much as possible, but it wasn’t enough. My nose felt so numb that it could fall off any second now. I placed one gloved hand over it to try to heat it up, but my hands were already icicles.
I turned the last street corner and immediately ran into my street, Bluebell drive. My house was the second on the left, number 206. I sprinted up the cracked concrete driveway towards the front door, heaving in iced air. As soon as I opened the sleek black front door a full blast of heat hit my face, slowly thawing it out. I removed my gloves (hoping to find all of my fingers were attached), set them down on the table next to the front door along with my student ID and numbly walked over to the lit fire place.
“Evangeline, is that you?” My dad called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s me dad,” I said chattering my teeth.
“Have you been outside this whole time? It’s freezing out there!” he said as he walked into the family room, ending up right beside me.
“Sorry. Yes yes yes, it won’t happen again.”
“Well, you seem to always say that yet you come inside like you have been put in a freezer for hours!”
“Ok, well I’m going upstairs. Good night,” I said stumbling to my feet as I headed towards the stairs. Even though I yearned for the heat of the fire, I didn’t really feel like listening to a responsibility lecture right now.
“Ok, see you tomorrow. Oh by the way, I want you to go talk to the Montgomery boy across the street. They have been here for almost a year now and you haven’t even seen him! It’s kind of rude of you.”
“But dad, what if he is some kind of freak who thinks I’m his friend and tries to start hanging out with me!” I whined now halfway upstairs.
“You never know until you try Evangeline. Good night,” he said as he walked back into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and groaned as I continued up the stairs to my room. My brother, Jack, was already asleep so I quietly opened my bedroom door and closed it as softly as I could. I quickly flicked the switch on the wall to the right of me, instantly infusing the room with a soft, luminous glow. I walked over to my open closet and dug through a bin of t-shirts and shorts. Numbly, I slipped out of my blue suede boots, my dark skinny jeans, my knee high army green socks, my white long sleeve shirt, my purple sweater, and my cream winter coat and put on an old Mickey Mouse t-shirt along with black biker shorts. I decided to slip my socks back on just in case I got cold, even though the house was burning up. For some reason I was exhausted, so I turned my light off, lied down on my bed, and immediately fell asleep.
*****
I woke up to the sounds of Jack’s toy trucks racing down the upstairs hallway. Sure, he was ten but he never seemed to get tired of those trucks.
“Jack! keep it down!” I yelled from my room.
“Dad says you need to get up anyways.” he said now in the doorway of my room holding a red truck in his left hand. “He wants you to get ready and go to the Montgomery’s.” he said walking away. I sighed and threw the covers off of me. The sun seeped through my closed curtain making small rays on the wood floor. I rub
it didn’t even post it all! hold on….
I rubbed my eyes and stood up with a bit of a sway. My alarm clock read 9:32 in flashy red numbers. They seemed a little too flashy for my liking. I slowly walked over to my closet and took out a turquoise log sleeved shirt, a pink braided- strap dress, a hounds tooth sweater, some very thick black tights, and my winter coat. I prayed this would keep me warm today. The upstairs bathroom was unoccupied so I decided now was a good time to take a shower.
Once I was cleaned up and dressed I slipped on my black suede boots and headed downstairs. My dad was sitting on the couch watching a re- run of King of Queens, and eating a half empty bowl of cheerios. He waved goodbye once I told him I was heading out and went back to mindlessly staring at the television screen. I slipped on my heavy coat, opened the front door, and slowly walked to the end of my driveway. The Montgomery’s house was across the street, one house down. It was a simple white two story house, with perfectly trimmed square
bushes along the front lawn. The windows had freshly painted black shutters, and window boxes that were overflowing with white jasmine. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I made my way across the street to the pleasant little house to meet this unknown family.
I pressed the doorbell once I reached the front door and took a step back. I wondered how these people would react to just now meeting their neighbor. I had been invited over in the past, or asked to go visit, but I always seemed to find a way around it. Today I guess I wasn’t so lucky. Plus, I had to face them sooner or later. In only a few seconds time the glossy red door opened revealing a pleasant looking woman holding an apple in her left hand.
“Well hello.”
“Hi. I’m Evangeline. I um, live right across the street.”
“Oh, of course! Come on in sweetie,” she said opening the door more now to let me in. The house smelled of fresh flowers, and sweet red apples.
“Thanks,” I said as I reluctantly stepped inside.
“You know, I have always meant to come by but I have just been so busy. This is a lovely house you have by the way.”
“Well, thanks. We just finished up all of the remodeling about a week ago. You should have seen this place before. It was a disaster!” she rambled on as we walked into the family room. Her husband was sitting on the couch reading today’s paper, and a boy who looked to be about my age was sitting at their dark wooden table reading a book.
“Evangeline, this is my husband, Tyce.”
“Nice to meet you” he said reaching his hand out to shake mine. His palm was rough with calluses and at least twice the size of mine.
“You too.” I said with a kind smile. They seemed nice enough so far.
“And this is my son, Blair.” she said proudly gesturing over to him. It was almost as if she was showcasing her own son. Blair gracefully pushed himself up from the table, and walked over to meet me.
“It’s a pleasure.” he said with a gentle smile. I shook his hand, and examined him more as
well, whatever. there is too much to post anyways. thanks for the feedback.