𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 || atsv - miles 42

𝟎𝟕.

𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙨.

I woke up early Monday morning, the sun hadn't risen yet. I slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, which instantly woke me up. Once I finished up those acts, I went to my closet and picked out some dark-colored clothes to wear. I quickly slipped those on and grabbed my backpack full of spray paint. I slung it over my shoulder, the cans clattering together inside.

I exited my room with caution, not daring to wake my mom up at this hour. I threw my hoodie over my head as I tiptoed to the front door — shoving my feet inside a random pair of sneakers. I grabbed my keys and slowly opened the front door, sliding through the tiny space and closing it quietly behind me.

The air outside was a neutral temperature — not too hot or cold. I walked down the steps of my house and onto the sidewalk, making my way toward my usual alleyway for graffiti. I arrived in around five minutes, my blank expression hidden behind my hood.

I dropped my bag onto the ground and looked at my recent work, a burst of radiant colors shining bright in the night. It was a neon-colored Bugs Bunny mugshot, his annoyance apparent on his face. I had been working on this for quite some time, weeks to months at most. It was almost done, the only missing was small details and of course, my tag.

My graffiti name was Icon, cause why not? It could be considered iconic someday.

I pulled my headphones out my backpack and placed them over my ears. I took my phone out of my pocket and began scrolling through my playlists, tapping on the one specifically for spray-painting and selecting a song. The song blasted in my ears and set the vibe for this session. I was instantly bopping my head to the beat of the song, taking out my spray cans, and beginning to work on my graffiti.

Spray painting was something I found comforting, even if my mom disapproved of it. I was expressing myself through something I enjoyed, and that always puts me in a good mood. It was like my hand was gliding over the brick wall and creating something magical -- which was cool as hell.

I finished my project at around six in the morning, which was good timing. I had enough time to get ready for school, and this was the time I typically wake up. I tagged my work, a tiny heart replacing the usual dot in the 'i.' I put my spray cans back into my backpack, taking off my headphones so they were around my neck. I took one last look at it before walking back to my house.

I arrived at my house and fumbled with my keys a little before opening the front door and seeing my angry mom's gaze. "Where were you?" She asked. Her hand was on her hip and a cup of coffee was in the other. I shut the door behind me and began walking to my room, dropping my bag into my closet again; stuffing it in the same spot it was in previously. I stood up and threw on a university crewneck and a different pair of cargo pants; moving quickly. I sat at my vanity and began my makeup, my mom leaning against my doorframe.

"I still haven't gotten an answer, Isla," She said, her Dominican accent becoming prominent whenever she said my nickname. "Where were you?" Her tone was more direct and impatient.

"I was doing my morning run, mamá," I said, lying through my teeth. I was beating my face with a beauty blender, blending the makeup to match my skin. A deep sigh left her lips.

"Miss me with that," She said rolling her eyes, taking a sip of her hot coffee. "I don't know why you keep doing this, even when I tell you not to." I remained silent and continued doing my makeup, a pang of guilt rushing through my body. She left the room soon after, mumbling something under her breath.

I finished my makeup and grabbed my school backpack, slipping on my shoes near the front door. "Love you," I said, grabbing my lanyard and opening the door. This time around, the atmosphere was a little more lively. I began walking to school, my headphones over my ears once again.