I changed a little of it last night, I think I’m really trying to set the scene with the first paragraph.
“The thoughts rattling through her head” part, is more of a subtle hint to the reader that, there’s more going on with the character. I’ve attached a bit more and the changes below if anyone would like to see more and offer me more advice. Thank you all so much, it’s much appreciated.
Pottering with my scarf, the echo of my footsteps is crunching through the usually brick layered street, that is now painted white. The only thing that keeps me from enjoying this rare silence is the thoughts that continue to rattle through my brain. Pulling my hat tight and snug against my ears, in an attempt to block out the cold. My boots are saturated, and trying to get up these steps is proven to be a nightmare. Once I’ve reached the top, my dormant reflection in the glass doors that dominate the building, stares back at me. My slight confident smile quickly fade’s. Eagerly awaiting the warmth, I’m soon Lunging for the handle of the door. With my reflection fading too.
Ohh, that is better, removing my clothing, that now feels like a deadweight. Revealing my tiny frame, that now appears even more so, because of the black dress that hangs off me. Turning back to the doors that held my reflection. Dead, puffy and irritated eyes stare back at me, and my skin resembles that of a corpse. “Perfect” I think to myself. Grinning at Gloria whom is perched behind her desk, observing me like always.
“Good morning Miss Hunter” Gloria Spits through her perched lips. “if you would like to take a seat and Dr Franklin will be with you momentarily”.
Making my way over to my usual seat, that seems to be occupied by a little brown bag.
“This yours? I ask a small child. She nods her head up and down.
“Here you go” Gloria continues to stare while I perch myself awaiting Dr Franklin to call my name.
“What you in for?”, I ask the child, whom bobbing her head up for her colouring.
“My mummy thinks I’m bad” she replies. While sucking on her lollipop.
“Hmm,, are you?”
Looking up from her colouring book again, and then scanning the room. She bites down on her lolly smiling like a Cheshire Cat.
“sometimes”.
“Why?”
“I don’t know I just am” she cheerfully replies.
“Oh right” I reply back. “My mummy and daddy said my sister was bad too, before they died”.
Somewhat piquing her interest, she whispers, “how did they die?”.
Footsteps clatter through the corridor, as my name is shouted through the tannoy. Shifting myself up from my seat and grabbing my thing’s I walk away not before Turing to the child.
“Because my sister was bad”.