got lightning in a bottle || n.h au

fifteen

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On mornings when I can actually afford to waste time and vegitate, I tend to do this thing where I wake up, stretch, check the time, fall gracelesly back onto my pillow and stare at the ceiling while thinking about anything and everything. 

These moments- other than the ones I spend in the shower- are when I make most of my life decisions. Like deciding what I want to have for breakfast, for example. It's usually between waffles and pancakes.

I literally just lie there making a mental list of the pros and cons of pancakes and waffles, the variety they offer in terms of the toppings I can have on them and I then make an executive decision after deliberating with me, myself and I.

More often than not, I end up choosing the pancakes.

What? Pancakes over everything y'all. 

I also use this time to reminisce on my experiences from the previous day or just general embarrassing moments I've had and how I would try to change them if I could.

I mean if I had known that speed walking to my Physics class in the eighth grade would end with me lying face down on the floor outside Ms Els' classroom -while an entire class of tenth graders were hung out of the window of the opposite class laughing their asses off and pointing at me- then I would most certainly have rather been late.

What probably made it worse was that I didn't get up immediately after I had fallen.  Oh no, not Zahraa. I stayed on the ground for about five minutes until a boy in my class came over and helped me up.

The first thing I had said to him as soon as I had sat up was "you wouldn't happen to have anything that could assist in possibly getting the ground to open up and swallow me whole, now would you?" . This resulted in a laugh from dude, who in all honesty, was probably thinking I had a concussion.

I spent the rest of the class with my forehead on the table, my arms somehow covering my head and trying to ignore the snickers from the rest of my classmates.

Definitely one of my worst high school memories. 

That was also the day I started getting sassier. It was the only way I could deal with my irritating classmates constantly asking me whether I had fun down there.

I ignored them at first. It wasn't easy, but I did. But at some point after hearing the same, unoriginal remark for about the fifteenth time in less than an hour, I snapped.

I turned to Nina, the girl who had uttered the words, with a calm smile and said  "Oh it was lovely, thank you for asking. By the way, Satan told me to ask you when you were coming back home? He misses you terribly."

There was silence all around before up until one of her friends whispered "Oh snap, crackle pop"  and suddenly everyone burst into fits of laughter, most of them directed at Nina herself.

Nina was one of those "my daddy has a lot of money and therefore I can treat everyone who I feel is beneath me like trash and get away with it" kind of girls, so I couldn't even find it in me to regret what I had said.

It's probably a given that we've never seem eye to eye since.

Ever since then, it's just gotten worse. It's something I don't even do on purpose anymore.

Just yesterday I did it to my mom and for a moment she considered kicking me out of her house.

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