Ordinary Day

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Author's Note: SO basically I was watching an hour's worth of Y/n slander and I had a brilliant idea to make shit like this. My bad. 

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It was a warm April day. The sun was peaking out between my blinds, birds outside were chirping, and my wonderous dreams of owning castles and being rich af were suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of my alarm.

I tumbled out of bed, snapped awake from my dreaming. The alarm meant it was 7 am. I had to get ready for school. I reached for my Nokia 7250i and hit the snooze. I hold myself the honey-coated lie of 5 more minutes as I went back to sleep.

I hadn't much idea how much time had passed, but soon the unconquerable anxiety of something going wrong pulsated within my veins as I felt my head hit my bedside table. A burning pain shot down my back as I realized I was on the cold wooden floor of my room. 

Shit.

I was probably hours late by now. I didn't even bother checking the time as I threw my brown locks into a perfectly messy bun. I threw on a quick outfit and laced up my yellow converse as the thought hit me. 

Why the FUCK was I bothering with any of this? I sound like a basic ass bitch?

For about a good 40 minutes, I stood in my room, having a mid-life crisis after realizing how dumb I seemed about a few seconds ago. I had an idea. 

If I'm already this fucking late, why the FUCK am I going to school? Who the FUCK cares? Nobody is going to care about my education. Hell, in a few hours, there's probably going to be famous One Direction star, Harry Styles, standing on my doorstep claiming to have bought me from my mother, even though she has no reason nor motive to selling me. And even if that didn't happen, I can just teach myself all my curriculum at home, and probably finish my 2 leftover years of highschool education in a few months?

With my new plan in mind, I tore off my clothes and grabbed the ancient Aztec stone knife I had off my wall, slicing my bun off, letting my useless and dreadfully nasty, 9-foot brown hair fall to the floor. I then put on my mother's bath robe and picked up my torn clothes and hair, piling them into a ball within my grip. Then I thought

Why stop there?

So I ransacked my entire wardrobe, filled with the same types of basic af outfits and threw them into a pile at the corner of my room. Then I collected all of them, making my way down to the basement, where the cold and moldy smell of decay flooded my nostrils. My feet were cold against the stone steps, but soon I found myself before the basement burner. I opened the door and threw the pile of unnecessary and trashy items inside. I wouldn't need them anymore. 

I lit a match and threw it in along with the items. I then grabbed the barrel of gasoline I had handy next to the burner. I dumped about a gallon of the stuff on the soon-to-be ashes, and slammed the burner door. I turned on my heel and walked back up the stairs into my room.

Now, clothed in only my mother's bath robe and wearing a haircut befitting of a drug addict, I finally felt free.

I went back to bed. 













Suddenly, my mother yelled at me from the kitchen.

"Darling, I have lunch ready! But I am missing some mayonnaise. Do you think you could run down to the store and get some for me please?"

I originally decided against it, but then again, I didn't care. My mother was my mother, and she had always been kind enough to keep me from starving. Sure, sometimes she grounded me or scolded me for failing my math class, but she was just like any other mother. So I thought

Why not? Might as well show the world I can live however the fuck I want now. 

I made my way out the door, armed with $10 and my keys. I still only wore a bath robe, and plenty of elderly women walking to and fro stared and gossiped, but I didn't care. Not because I was going to burst out singing, or perform a magical musical number where I revealed that I was the long lost heir of a vampire clan that once ruled the world, but because I was happy. It didn't matter to me what some 70 year-old women had to say about me, they would die in a couple years anyways. This was my life to live, and nobody batted an eye when some shirtless werewolf roamed the streets in nothing more than a pair of ripped jeans so worn that the seams must have been made of titanium, so why would they care about some girl in a bath robe trying to buy mayonnaise? 

In the midst of my mind, however, I hadn't noticed that I was wandering straight into a wall. A wall made up of steel and aluminium, travelling 48 mph. It was a train, and I flew over 400 feet, as I died upon impact along the warm asphalt of the road. 



THE END.

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