But She Loves You.

Sabella.

I stared at my best friend from across the classroom. She was so pretty. I miss that. We were in 4th grade back then, how I miss the little innocence I had. So clueless, so very clueless.. Our friendship lasted quite a while with little conflict. It's still thriving in present time, yet shes not my crush anymore. Funny how things can change. She dated my cousin twice, I suppose that's why I lost feelings.

|\|Present Time|\|

*beep beep beep*
I stared up at my ceiling lazily as I listened to my alarm clock go off. I just wanted it to stop. Yet I got up, nearly losing my balance as I stood. I wasn't very tall, yet not small enough to be considered "short". Average height, is how I would describe it. I shooed my usual morning thoughts away as I turned my alarm clock off swiftly. I opened my bedroom door to a dark, quiet hallway.  walking two doors down to the bathroom, still half asleep. The light was bright, it hurt my eyes. Looking in the mirror, I noticed my very frizzy blonde hair. I sighed in disappointment of myself. I hated my hair, it was just terrible. Absent-mindedly grabbing my toothbrush, I grabbed the toothpaste from behind me. Now almost fully awake, I scrubbed my teeth, not fully caring about my physical health anyway. After finishing, I rinsed out my mouth and proceeded to brush my hair. I was all in knots, though somehow kinda.. Pretty? No, I can't think that way. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘭𝘭 make fun of me. As always.
" I wish I was dead already. " I whispered. After finally brushing my hair through, I walked out of the bathroom. I checked the time on the microwave, 6:55. I had to be at school by 7:45, though I preferred to be there by 7:25. By the time I had gotten all my stuff together it was 7:14. Why did time go so fast? I went down the hall to wake my mother. I was too young, and tired, to drive. With a Huff and a few protests, she woke. As we walked to the car, she started yelling at me. "Typical", I thought. My mother scared me, yet today.. She didn't. The fact that she didn't scare me caused more fear. Either she was starting to give up on me, or I was giving up. I give up often. I can't help but feel I'm losing my will to live. Fear.