Welcome to 'The Shadow Moon Realm'

2-Not Your Regular Flight (1)

"Eyemore, please hurry and wake up," the little girl in my dream said, before her head snapped to me making my eyes widen in shock.

My body shot up, drenched in sweat as usual. I sighed, this dream has been occuring the past two years of my life, and this is exactly how my body reacts to it. I groaned, swiping at the sweat on my arms in disgust. I got up, knowing it will be impossible to go back to sleep in this state.

I pulled the sheets off of my bed, throwing them into my washer and turned it on, before taking out last night's sheets from the dryer to put it onto the bed. After getting that done, I immediately hopped into the shower to relax my tense muscles.

This cycle of waking up, changing sheets, and washing up is honestly getting a little bit on my nerves. When it first started two years ago, I brushed it off. But as they continue to happen and everything gets deeper in details I feel like, like I lived it. I mean the little girl has silverish white hair just like me.

I was born with white hair, and everyone thinks I'm a freak because of the fact that it doesn't change at all. I've tried dying it, cutting it all off, covering it, but NOTHING WORKS!

When I tried to dye it, the bleach nor temporary colors stayed on. Like when it was time to rinse it off, the shit washed off completely! Even when I tried to keep it in without rinsing, the color and bleach ran down my fucking face! When I tried cutting it off, the pair of scissors broke upon instant contact, razors shot out circuts of electricity, and even when wearing a WIG THE SHIT MELTED THE HAIR!

At that point of trying almost everything to cover up this hair, I just learnt to live with it. I refuse to die by the hands of my own hair. So now since the only way I can manage my hair is by styling it, and now it's length is above my waist. I bit the inside of my cheek, washing my body to relax, but it's hard to as usual.

After thirty minutes in the shower, and I'm finally relaxed to the point of both mentally and physically. I wrapped my black fluffy body towel around me, going to my sink to brush my teeth and cleanse my face. Feeling fully refreshed, I walked around my mini condo, going into the kitchen to make me a cup of coffee.

As the coffee brew, I make a beeline back to my room, picking out my gym outfit and undergarments.

All my life I have been alone. Like literally. I don't remember anything about my early childhood, it was like my life started when I was four, bouncing from orphanage to orphanage because nobody wanted me. When I turned 16 I ran away from the house I was in, and decided to raise myself. I didn't need anybody and it seemed like being in those houses, was me asking for a handout.

I got my work permit, got a job, and stayed in a hotel room until I was actually legal enough to pay my own bills, and look at me now. 19 with my own mini condo. Never met my parents, or any provider for all I know, but I got my own place!

I dried off, moisturizing my body with cocoa butter, then threw on my undergarments and gym outfit. It was something simple, a pair of light grey biker shorts, and a light grey short sleeved shirt. I stared at myself in the mirror before I put my shirt on.

I'm high off confidence, so of course I would consider myself beautiful. With my lowkey cute white hair laying on top of my slightly red tanned skin, perfectly plucked eyebrows, glaring doe eyes that shows the empty window of my electricifying blue pupils, thick forest of eyelashes, and my pointy doll-like nose that falls above my pink plump lips. I had nice curves, a flat belly...and a scar.

I paused, before running my fingertips along the long scar above my heart.

Let's call it, the only imperfection I think is perfect. I don't know how I got it, I was just born with it I guess. Not even the orphanage knows how I got this, my medical records didn't say I had a heart surgery, so I just call it my unknown battle scar.