One Point Perspective Room.
Venice recounts the hours spent that she would get ready for her first days of high-school. Reflecting on her encounters, her interactions, and the ways that her days would end.
Now, within the present, sitting on her mattress inside of her bedroom, she gazes at the envelope labeled from Yale University. This was the ticket to her future; it was now or never. She anxiously settles her stare onto a painting that was given her as a graduation gift; a picture she had taken of a rose turned photograph. “This is everything. This is everything that I’ve waited for. If I don’t open it now... I will never know,” she murmurs to herself.
Before opening the letter, she inhales a deep breath, exhaling an adequate amount of air. She gazes at the table across the room, a chair tucked beneath it. “Here we go,” she says, beginning to rip it open.
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