Amila blinked her eyes as she laid idly in her bed. She stared at the ceiling above her aimlessly as she waited for the cue of her alarm clock to send her out of her mindless state, and like clockwork, her alarm rung, she reached out towards her side table to cease the droning sound.
She got up from her bed, heaving herself up in her tired condition. She walked to her bathroom, swiftly passing by a window that displayed a dreary sight, a grey sky, and a bombardment of rain. Amila sighed as she realised that she'd have to walk to the bus stop in that weather. Her morning really couldn't be more downcast.
She opened the door to her bathroom, being met by her very own face in the mirror in front of her. She had never been too fond of her appearance, not that she despised it, but that if she could choose how she looked, it wouldn't be how she appeared now. White hair, ghostly pale skin, and greyish purple eyes.
When Amila was just a girl, kids would stare and whisper. She knew they never meant any harm when they did so, but she couldn't help but feel like an alien or some foreign creature in the eyes of those children. To be comfortable as herself was an endeavour she could strived hard to accomplish but always just fell short of.
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Amila tore her eyes away from the mirror. She didn't have time to just stare pointlessly at herself. She'd miss the bus if she kept this up. She freshened up, dawned her neat and freshly ironed uniform, and fixed up her hair with a bit of hairspray and the 2 pink hairclips she had worn religiously since she received them from her father as a little girl.
She spritzed a little perfume on herself, grabbed her bag, and ran downstairs. She had forgotten all about having breakfast and just bolted out the door, not forgetting to wave goodbye to the framed picture of her parents on the console table.
Amila began walking, but as did she remembered something vital she had forgotten when droplets of rain saturated every part of her from her hair to her uniform. She had forgotten an umbrella, and she didn't have the time or patience to turn back around and walk home to go grab her own, so she just trudged ahead and hoped she'd be able to take some coverage under the bus stop.
She desperately tried to save herself by raising her bag over her head, but it did little to stop the onslaught of raindrops unsympathetically drenching every fibre of her being. She looked up and ahead of her, seeing the silhouette of the bus stop through the haze. But as she inched closer, her only hope of salvation was dampened as she viewed the crowd of people all huddled and cramped together to try and hide from the violent rain that battered them.
Amila sighed as she stood there, defeated. Her stance slumped as she came to the realisation that she'd have to arrive at school looking and feeling like a soggy paper towel.
That was until she stopped feeling droplets hit her head, and she looked up to see an umbrella over her, sheltering her. She looked beside her to see a boy around her age, eyes stuck to his phone as he seemed to be scrolling through videos or maybe texting someone.
"Uh, thank you..!"
Amila blurted out awkwardly. Her face flushed from her own embarrassment. The absurdity of the whole situation had her head spinning.
"Uh, no problem? I just noticed you were looking a little.. soaked, and I thought you might have needed a hand.. or an umbrella.."
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The stranger's gaze moved from his phone and down at Amila before turning once again, though this time in the opposite direction of her.
"The bus is here. We should get moving.."
He nodded his head at her and walked Amila over to the door of the bus so she didn't get even more wet, before entering the bus through a different door and disappearing into the crowd of transit goers.
"Who was that guy?"
Amila thought to herself. Her town was fairly small, and she knew the majority of the people who lived there, but she had not once seen a guy like that. It was giving her a headache trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.
