Superpowers

Chapter 1 : Shapeshifting

WARNING : references to SUICIDE, DEPRESSION, DEATH and DRUG AND ALCOHOL USE.

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SHAPESHIFTER

/ˈʃeɪpˌʃɪftə/

noun

noun: shapeshifter

(chiefly in science fiction or mythology) a person or being with the ability to change their physical form at will.

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chapter 1 : shapeshifting

-beeeeeeeep-

-beeeeeeeep-

-beeeeee-

I hit the snooze button on my incessant alarm and find an annoyingly loud Ezra pulling open my blinds unveiling a glaring light. Sunlight pours in, illuminating my dark hole of a room. I groan, sinking deeper into my warm mattress, rolling my body in my thick duvet like a sausage roll to hide from the sun shining through my windows.

"Geez Allie stop being such a princess, I've already been up for 2 hours."

He tugs hard on the corner of my duvet causing me to fall out of bed with a thump onto the cold, hard floor; the wooden beams no doubt bruising my bum.

After mumbling a series of swear words aimed at my brother, I pick up my duvet and dump it on my bed knowing that mum will tidy it later.

"Come on birthday girl, you don't want to be late on your first day back!" he shouts in a singsong voice, causing me to flinch at the noise.

Today was my 17th birthday and the first day back at school after the summer holidays.

Yup.

Lucky me, right.

The day where people take pride in showing off their new flashy cars or overpriced accessories that they've collected over the holidays. Or showing up 7 weeks later, after a gruesome holiday of eating nothing but slightly seasoned leaves. I dont see the point in it, so what if you turn a few heads, it's nothing but a waste of time and money.

It's not like the boys in my school are worth it? They're all absolute twats with the exception of the medium ugly funny ones. But even then, who would want their attention?

I slide into my ensuite shower, taking my time to lather my hair in my favourite apple 'head and shoulders' shampoo, before letting it rinse down my body. Quickly, I shave my armpits and scrub them until odour free.

Yes. I know. I use the apple head and shoulders shampoo.

Dont judge me, I'm a 17 year old girl. What else did you expect?

Also it smells good.

Wrapping a towel round my body, I blast my hairdryer so my waist-length hair is moderately dry.

I adjust my necklace and tug on my stiff uniform; a plaid skirt that falls mig-thigh and a white blouse with an open-collar. Gross. I brush my locks briefly and splashed my face with water to reawaken me after almost dozing off once again, then put on a bit of light makeup. Grabbing my keys and phone I place them inside my blazer pocket and tie up my black air-force 1's.

When I leave the room, I pass the mirror and briefly check my appearance.

My eyes travel over my figure, unflattering and awkward. If my skirt was lifted a few inches higher, it would reveal purple stretch marks around the inside of my chubby thighs. The blouse is tight against my perky 34D's and slightly round belly. I never really took any interest in how I looked - much unlike people like my brother. I had other priorities, like school, friends and...well, Damon Salvatore.