Split Personailty
I decide that if anyone know what the hell Emily Dickinson did with her life, it’s my sister. I get up from my desk and go to her room across the hall. I softly knock on her door, crossing my fingers that she’s not in her study mood where she doesn’t notice anything.
“Come in,” I hear her say. I let out a sigh of relief. I open her door to see her tapping her pencil on her desk, trying to figure out the entirety of calculus or something crazy like that. Her computer is also open, with a half written essay open on her screen. I assume she’s also supposed to be typing. Funny how twins are like that. She looks back at me with a puzzled look on her face. Huh. Turns out there’s things in this world that confuse even Zoe Maciano. “What’s up?” She asks me.
“Oh, um, I need some help with this essay about Emily Dickinson,” I say.
“Are you asking me to do it for you,” she asks skeptically.
“No, no, no. I just thought I covered everything but I only wrote 300 words, and I need 500-750 words. Can you just read it over for me and tell me what I should add?” I ask. She nods her head and gets up from her desk as I turn around a walk back into my room. I stand at the side of my desk as she walks into my room and starts reading my essay. I know she can be pretty honest so I watch a little nervously as she reads. She finally looks up with a smile.
“This is pretty good Morg!” She says, still smiling.
“Really?” I ask enthusiastically,
“Yeah! I’d maybe add a little bit about how she encouraged other writers and how her writing effected other people. I know there’s and movie about her. You could watch it or just do more research. You are really close though,” she tells me.
“Thanks Zo,” I say gratefully.
“No problem!” She says as she walks out. Okay. I watch the trailer for the movie. It seems like it’s more about her struggles as a women in a primarily male field. That could be interesting to put in my essay, but my teacher might not find it factual enough. I could also do more research, but that could lead to more dead ends.
“Come in,” I hear her say. I let out a sigh of relief. I open her door to see her tapping her pencil on her desk, trying to figure out the entirety of calculus or something crazy like that. Her computer is also open, with a half written essay open on her screen. I assume she’s also supposed to be typing. Funny how twins are like that. She looks back at me with a puzzled look on her face. Huh. Turns out there’s things in this world that confuse even Zoe Maciano. “What’s up?” She asks me.
“Oh, um, I need some help with this essay about Emily Dickinson,” I say.
“Are you asking me to do it for you,” she asks skeptically.
“No, no, no. I just thought I covered everything but I only wrote 300 words, and I need 500-750 words. Can you just read it over for me and tell me what I should add?” I ask. She nods her head and gets up from her desk as I turn around a walk back into my room. I stand at the side of my desk as she walks into my room and starts reading my essay. I know she can be pretty honest so I watch a little nervously as she reads. She finally looks up with a smile.
“This is pretty good Morg!” She says, still smiling.
“Really?” I ask enthusiastically,
“Yeah! I’d maybe add a little bit about how she encouraged other writers and how her writing effected other people. I know there’s and movie about her. You could watch it or just do more research. You are really close though,” she tells me.
“Thanks Zo,” I say gratefully.
“No problem!” She says as she walks out. Okay. I watch the trailer for the movie. It seems like it’s more about her struggles as a women in a primarily male field. That could be interesting to put in my essay, but my teacher might not find it factual enough. I could also do more research, but that could lead to more dead ends.