Subway Descriptive Writing

It was a normal, cool, & sunny afternoon in Newport, Rhode island. I walked down Broadway Street, towards the nearest Subway. My footsteps echoed against the sidewalk, my shadow casting in the front of me. When finally got to Subway, eager to eat, I paused outside for a few moments. I stuck my hands into my pockets, searching for any loose cash to make my payment, when I sighed in disappointment. I realized I didn 't have any money, I then proceeded to turn myself around and head towards my house on Ayrault Street. I was actually quite surprised that my parents let me- a 13 year old boy walk around by myself in Newport. I was surprised by this because my parents were quite strict, with school and at home. It was pretty bad, for example- if I

I was so thankful that today was Saturday, I didn 't have to see those douchebags in their fancy clothes, expensive shoes, and cocky haircuts. It wasn 't only boys, it was also the girls, I don 't know what they had against me to make disgusted faces at me in the hallways, but it must 've been something I said. At least I hoped it was something I said, and not my appearance..... My appearance, I used to be proud of it, but lately I 've become enemies with the mirror in front of me. I had hair as black as the pupil in your eye, brown eyes that looked more like puddles of mud rather than eyes, and my skin is dark, I am African-American. African-American, a word that hardly escaped my fellow students mouths, they 'd much rather call me a "Nigger" and a "slave" than anything else. Racism wasn 't only encountering me at school, but was happening when I "hit the town" people looked at me differently, the braced themselves when I came by. It hurt, it hurt a lot, more than you can imagine. Finally I arrived to my house, walking up the steps, I was greeted by my mother yelling "Oh Cavonté, thank god you 're safe, we tried to call you, something 's going on!" What she said alarmed me, I then a concerned look wiped across my face.