SELENAS POV
I don't have an alarm clock. I'm woken up by my dreams every three hours, my last one ending at exactly four in the morning. Usually being the hour that I can't take it any more, so I roll out of bed, and prepare myself for the day. I either take out my anger on my punching bag in Nana's back yard, each kick and punch burns my flesh, bringing me the pleasure I need when it comes to my anger issues. Or I sit, and I paint. Mom was an artist and when I was little, she would sit in the mini gallery we had in our small house, and paint anything that came to mind. I would intently sit in the corner for hours upon hours, noting every stroke she took, storing it in the back of my mind. Although most of her works of art were destroyed, I somehow managed to re create them over the years. After I've given myself the clarity that I need, I get dressed, feed the dogs, hang out the washing and walk out the door, being extra careful of the cat. Meter is it's name, how I hate that thing. I can almost be certain that it hates me two times more, but somehow puts up with me. I've tried to convince my little sister Morgi to get rid of it for years, but the feral animal is her best friend, it keeps her and nana happy. After I've made it out the front door, and past the cat, I begin down the path.
I don't have a car, I prefer walking any way, it clears my mind before walking into the hell whole. The tiny town that I live in is like a trap. When something bad happens, you are the talk for weeks, and there is no getting out of it. When something good happens, it's the entire opposite. When the fire happened, our family was the entire talk of the town, and although it occurred five years ago, we still are. It used to feel odd receiving looks as I walked into work, or down the school hall, but now I've gotten used to it, which I suppose is a good and a bad thing.
Once I get into the school, I keep my head down, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention, and head straight for my locker. Passing the group of girls giggling about who they slept with the night before, the musicians, who always seem to be making some sort of sound that gives me a migraine, the goths which stare at you until your at least ten meters away. Most people are scared of them, but I stare right back, which makes them lay off. There are so many groups around the school, but I don't seem to fit into any of them. I'm not the same girl I was five years ago, the happy Selena that wore different colors, and walked around with a smile on my face. The demons have taken over, and as hard as I try, they aren't leaving.
