When the word “favourite person” was shouted out to the world, my mind always leaned towards Emily who was by far, without a doubt, my favourite person. Emily Robert, the perky, upbeat girl who played the trumpet in the school band and had been participating in bake sales on every Wednesday since the Christmas of 3rd grade.
To hate Emily was unacceptable in our small town, Jeffreyville, because to be honest with you, you just cannot hate a girl like Emily. She was the type of girl people wrote endless pages of poetry on, and the type of person that was incorporated into every scribble, and draft, and letter. Everyone loved her and so did I, but not for the same reasons that they did.
Emily was the epitome of beauty and brains- she was an A star student who charmed anyone that set eyes on her. She was like falling rain- enchanting at first, but at the same time it could drown you.
Her eyes were what drew people towards her. Her eyes couldn’t be compared to the bluest ocean, greenest forest, amber fire, or coffee beans roasted to perfection. Her eyes could not be compared to the beauty that earth held- her intriguing eyes held the entire universe, a universe that could leave you in a daze for days. If an author was to spare her a glance, she would be describes as the daughter of Thor, God of thunder and rain. But if she was anything, she should be compared to the sun- the bright, warm, beneficial sun.
I had known Emily since the start of time itself, but it was last year that she became my absolute favourite person. Last year, people were leaving my life as fast as lightening, and the pedestal on which my life stood, was continuously changing, but she was the only thing constant in my life. She was my rock in times of trouble, she was the voice I whispered my tales of woe to at the crack of dawn, and the hands that held me when I cried buckets of tears at twilight; she was the one who never left my side no matter how hectic my life became.
Emily was a sweet girl; she was pure raw happiness. A frown never settled on her face for too long and she had the absurd habit of seeing light in a room full of darkness. She saw the beauty in the abused and company in the broken. Emily was a beacon of hope- my beacon of hope who made me laugh until my ribs would hurt and adrenaline would pump through my delicate veins because of sheer joy. Emily’s gait was light, but her mark on the soil was irreplaceable.
Emily Robert was my favourite person because she believed in lost dreams and shooting stars; she believed that kindness was the best way to happiness- as well as failure- but only if taken for granted. She was supportive of my interests and was my number one fan. Furthermore, she was the only person to ever knock some sense into my head which was always high in the clouds.
Emily loved to draw, and I knew because whenever she would sleep over at my house, she would wake up at the crack of dawn to draw the light shyly entering the room through crevices in the walls and the glass mosaics in windows. She was in love with the stars as well. What fascinated her most would have to be how the night sky was embedded with millions and billions of twinkling stars that were hung up in the night sky as a decoration- that without them, the moon would be terribly lonely.
Her laugh was funnier than her humour and she had a prominent gap between her teeth; however it was her imperfections that made her truly stand out and her confidence that resulted in her being my favourite person. She had an unwavering personality, a strong belief in the good present in this world, and the ability to be optimistic about everything.
Emily Robert was sunshine, and quiet nights, and articles of clothing stained with paint, and the constellations; she was cinnamon and morning dew. Emily was an observer of humanity who helped the world by purely existing and that is why she was, is, and always will be my favourite person.