Hidden Under Perfection

Chapter 3: Claire

My world flickers between perfect and imperfect. Unmarred to ruin. The sky changes from cyan to mustard. The grass adapt from alive to dead. The buildings transform from pristine to mar. The trees turn from an abundance of leaves to none.

I stand on the road next to my school like the guy from Tuesday afternoon. I look up towards the sky, eyes closed in content. My arms tingle with the sensation of sunrays dancing on my skin. The hover cycle engine revs, getting ready to speed into the horizon.

My sister walks up next to looks up at me with distain. She does not look happy, and then my brother walks up beside her, his face a cloud of grief. My brother, John has hair that is light like mom's but his eyes are brown like our dad's. Jennifer's hair is dark and her eyes are a startling green. My eyes are the mirror image of mom's and every time I look in the mirror I see her. My siblings' mouths open, and the sound of screaming fills into my ears.

I awake with the overlapping sound of screaming in my ears and then I realize it's my alarm clock. " Snooze," I roll over and the sunlight shines into my eyes and the dream is drifting from my memory. The beeps start again, "shut up, okay! I'm up." The loud noise ends. I look over at the clock and it reads 6:04 am, I sigh.

I swing my legs over the side of the mattress, the air releasing in a hiss. I place my foot on the floor and pain rockets up my shin. My foot is asleep. I slowly shift my weight onto my limb and pins and needles explode in my nerves. I take tedious steps towards my closet. I pull the armoire's doors open so I can see my wardrobe, it consists of; black and plaid skirts, white and blue blouses, three pairs of dark wash jeans, ten tank tops, and four pairs of running shorts.

I take out a short black skirt and a light blue crop top; I lay them on the bed and walk over to the dresser. I take out a gray, lacy bra and black boy shorts. I pull of my pajamas and replace them with my outfit. "Wall screen on! Mirror me." I command.

"As you wish," a monotone voice replies.

The wall opposite my bed lights up and is an exact replica of my room. I make sure that my clothes are in nice condition and that I approve of my outfit, which I do, and walk towards the bathroom. My bathroom is standard, with a toilet, shower, and a sink. The toilet is on the right of the door and the shower is on the left. The sink in the middle is surrounded by drawers and cabinets, which hold my toiletries.

I walk up to the sink and start brushing my teeth; the monotony of it is relieving. I reach for the brush on the counter and start untangling the knots in my hair. Clumps of dark strands appear on the bristles, I don't even feel the pain any more. My eyeliner is in the first drawer along with my mascara, I grab both bottles and get to work. I carefully remove the brush from the mascara and coat my lashes in black paste. Next up is the tedious art of liquid eyeliner; I untwist the long stem of the brush so that there is a drop of black on the end of the thin hair. I pull at the corner of my eyelid and touch the bristles to my skin and pull them across. I repeat the process with my left eye. I take my lip balm and smear it across my lips and head downstairs.

My dad is in the kitchen holding out scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate, ever since mom died he has made breakfast every day; I take it and put it down on the table. I open the refrigerator and grab the sweet iced tea and a frosted glass. I pour the tea into the glass and take it into the dining room. The chairs at the table are soft and comfortable so I sigh when I sit down. The scrambled eggs are flavorful and the bacon is crispy. By the time I finish it is 7:30, time for school.

My white hover car sits in the driveway waiting for me. I swing open the door and sit in the black leather seat. My brother has a car like this one and he got it at the end of 10th grade, just like me. The cars sensors react to my weight and the car lifts off the ground. I put my right foot on the gas and turn onto my street.