Common Hearts

Chapter 1.

I was awoken to the millions of little beeps coming from my alarm clock. Ugh.
Groggily throwing a pillow at it.
After laying under the covers for who knows how long, I summoned all my strength to pull myself away from the cozy bed.
'No wait! Come back!' I heard it scream.
Slugging across the hall into the bathroom I started to draw a bath. I stepped into the warm water, chills racing down my back. This day was just like any other one, but still it felt strange. Like the water was smoother, the air lighter, and all chaos in the world had suddenly stopped. I took a moment to smile at this blessing.

Upon getting out of the tub I threw my blue dyed hair into a bun and wrapped my body in a fluffy pink towel. I ran back through the hall to the bedroom. Where I picked out the same camouflage skinny jeans and ripped gray sweater I wore everyday. I decorated the outfit by adding some weird dog tag necklaces I had gotten from a growing boutique in my town. I fixed my sweater in the mirror so that my tattoo was showing. My tattoo wasn't something I like to talk much about, because it was different from everybody else's. Tattoos or "marks" where usually small shapes, which changed to your mood and took on your birthstone color. But as I said, mine is wildly contrasting. It's a picture of a deep blood red rose with webbing along the stem, the rose changes like normal but not often. I here rumors float around and people snicker as I stride down the school hallways. Yes, I do stride. Even though people gossip they never really bother me.

"Tara? Joey called and asked if he could drive you to school this morning." Said my mother bursting through the door as she normally did.

"Well you can tell him no, because I don't feel like listening to him talk about himself the whole way there." I spat back, grabbing my things and leaving the room.

Ever since 6th grade my mother has been trying desperately to push me into a relationship with the neighborhood angel, Joey Flanders.
Joey is the type of guy you see helping old ladies cross the street or bringing cookies to the new neighbors. Not my type at all. Personally I'm a little wilder, I like to crank up the music and drive with the top down so everyone can hear. Of course, mommy has decided to disregard that. I must live with the constant talk of marrying the perfect and ridding the imperfect.

I hopped down stairs, stopping to pick up an apple, continuing my dash for the door. Once outside I slowed my pace, I was lucky my school started later than others. Most kids would die for the opportunity to begin class at 10am. Sucks to be them.
The screech of worn brakes brought me from my daydreams,

"Good morning miss Winfield!" greeted the bus driver.

"Good morning."

I relaxed as I plopped in the uncomfortable bus seat, putting on my headphones. I allowed myself to melt into the music feeling every beat, imagining every lyric, finally at peace.

~~~

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~Kat