"I was never truly certain of my goal in life. I may just be a teenager, but there's still so much I know about myself and those around me. I know my peers think I'm weird and out of place, but why should I look down upon myself the way they do? I c...
Someday I wish to run away from this town to my dream destination, away from all those who stand against me. It is an alternate reality my mind traverses to every time I close my eyes. The longing for a new life sweeps me off my feet and allows me to fly to a better life. A life were I can be whoever I want and live my life with my soulmate, whenever I find them that is. I know they're out there somewhere. I just have to wait.
My euphoria soon dissipates as my ears pick up on an irritating alarm. My amethyst orbs flutter open and I let out a prolonging yawn to wake myself up from my slumber. I watch my arm stretch out to my bedside alarm clock and shut it off, allowing silence into my room once more. I let out a deep sigh and throw my sheets off of my body, sitting myself up and dangling my legs off of my bed. As little motivation I have to go to school, there's no way I can stay at home with them always here.
I get myself out of bed and walk over to my wall mirror, taking in my appearance as I do every morning. I often sleep and wake up, praying to see a different girl staring back at me. One that actually appears in the way I have always dreamed of. But instead...
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...there's just me. Typical, average, boring me. With my long, messy, wavy brunette hair, porcelain-fair skin, dull amethyst orbs, and my skinny build, not to mention my usual short 5,2 height. Every one of my features, I can't help but loathe every time I look in the mirror. I step away from it, rolling my amethyst eyes, as I approach my closet. I open it up as I flip my long hair out of the way and reach for my usual outfit.
Changing out of my oversized hoodie, I put on my favourite black and grey oversized sweater and dark ripped denim jeans, as well as stepping into my usual black boots. I walk back over to the mirror and grab a hair tie from my pocket, putting my annoying brunette hair into a messy bun, my go-to for a typical school day. I step back and look at myself once more.
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Not perfect, but eh. I couldn't care less. As if I'm about to spend a thousand hours on my boring appearance. I walk over to my wardrobe again and grab my bag filled with all my school supplies and such, as well as grabbing my phone and headphones from my bedside, before stepping out of my room and shutting my door on the way out.
Downstairs, I see my family at the table, my mom drinking a coffee and my older sister applying her fake eyelashes with her compact mirror held up to her eye. I secretly hope they don't notice me as I creep over to the fridge to get my lunch and water bottle, but they both turn their attention to me as soon as I enter the kitchen.
"Ugh, it's about time you got out of bed. You're lucky I just got done with my makeup, otherwise I would have left without you," my sister, Mara, groans in frustration. "You'd better not keep me waiting again."
"Okay, whatever," I utter in response as I pack my bag with my lunch and water bottle. My sister is only a year older than me, yet she always insists on looking down on me. She's probably just itching to stop by the coffee shop with her other popular friends before school starts. It's the middle of Fall, so she and her friends usually collectively order pumpkin-spice lattes. I'm so glad we're in different year groups, or else I'd be smelling that pungent stench of pumpkin-spice all lesson. How can they even drink it? Then again, almost every other girl in my class orders that too. I'll never get the appeal.
"Go on then, girls, go get yourselves off to school. And Iris, you'd better not embarrass your sister today like you did last week," my mom orders sternly, glaring at me with tired eyes.
"I told you that wasn't my fault!" I cry, my mind recollecting the time last week when I accidentally bumped into Mara while trying to get away from the usual girls who pick on me, making her spill her ice tea on herself. It wasn't even good tea either. I have no idea why she got so fired up at me.
"It was your fault, you little brat! Embarrass me like that in front of my friends again and you'll be sorry!" Mara yells as she grabs her bag and storms out the door. I can only roll my eyes at my sister's immaturity. It doesn't help that mom always takes her side just because she's 'more successful' and 'more popular' than me. I huff in frustration and exit the house, taking my usual route to school.
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As I'm walking down the street, listening to my usual playlist on my phone, I suddenly hear a conversation nearby, causing me to take out my headphones to listen further. The streets are empty with no one in sight, but the voices I hear seem to be coming from a nearby alleyway. I know it's unwise of me to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, but my curiosity with the heated conversation drives me over to the alleyway and my ear perks up to listen further to the voices.
I peek my head around the corner as I listen and spot a group of boys wearing dark clothing speaking to another boy with his hood up and a black facemask on. He seems familiar to me, but I don't know why. I can only tell he has tanned skin and piercing blue eyes, as well as raven-black hair that falls over his face. His attire seems to consist of a leather jacket, a red slightly tattered v-neck shirt, and black cargo pants with chains and studs decorating his pants and black leather boots.
One of the boys in dark clothing, who seems like some kind of leader of the group, steps closer to him in a confrontational stance. His back is facing me so I cannot see his face, but I can see him wearing a black tattered leather jacket and black denim jeans, as well as studded black fingerless gloves and short dirty-blonde hair. His voice is aggressive and angry as he talks to the boy with raven-black hair.
"You'd better watch what you say to us, Markus! You can barely take us on as is. You wouldn't want us to get the boss involved, would you?" The boy asks as he sticks a cigarette through his fingers and strikes a match against the brick wall, lighting it and blowing out smoke in the raven-haired boy's face. He doesn't seem to show him much emotion and only glares at him. 'Markus'? Is that his name? Do I know anyone called Markus? It's a very nice and unique name, I have to admit.
"I get it. I'll get you what you want in a few days. Just give me time," the raven-haired boy speaks through his mask, his voice seeming hoarse and deep, yet smooth at the same time. I feel my stomach drop at the sound of the raven-haired boy's voice, my heart seeming to skip a beat. What just happened? Such a voice...its unlike any I have ever heard before. I blink my amethyst orbs in fascination as the blonde-haired boy steps back.
"You know what happens if you fail, you hear? Boys, let's report back to the boss," The blonde-haired boy orders as he and his group retreat through the alleyway, away from the raven-haired boy and me. He watches them leave and lets out a grunt of frustration, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He dials someone's number and puts it to his ear as he turns to look around at his surroundings. As soon as he faces away from me, I sprint away from the alleyway and back on route toward my school.
I have no idea what that was about, but I get a really bad feeling about that group. What do they want with this 'Markus' boy? Who are they? Who's their boss? My heart feels like it's in my throat now with the realisation that I probably shouldn't have heard that conversation. What if they find out I was eavesdropping? Would they come for me? Would they know who I am?
No, don't be ridiculous. Why would they go out of their way just to come for someone like me? I'm no one special. They could never suspect someone as average and uninteresting as me. Besides, they didn't see me anyway, so there's nothing to worry about. I just have to get to school and forget about whatever that conversation was.
I wonder if I can forget about that boy too. Why does he stick out to me so much?
