All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Argument #183739
Nails nicely painted,
calmly placed on my lap.
I look up at their faces
red with anger, mouthing the utmost horrible remarks.
My hands picked at each other as if I had an itch.
Nail polish is chipping.
The modest green kitchen walls seem more dull
then ever.
One hand has no polish anymore
lap filled with black nail polish.
my hands seem to hate each other
everything is in slow motion.
As I stand and walk to my bedroom
a million chips of nail polish fall
swiftly to the floor
my prisoner nails now free.

Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
This is a piece of me while my parents argued.