I really don't like telling this story. I never, ever will. But it's a good story. It's the story of my teenage life.
That's kinda a cheesy way to start telling a story, I know. At least it gets better.
At least I hope it does.
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I was starting my day like you start every other day.
My alarm clock blared in my ear, and I rolled over and slapped it off. Than I hopped out of bed, and pulled the sheets up to my pillows.
I ran into my bathroom, turned on the cold water in the shower to wake me up, and scrubbed my teeth real quick. Then I stripped out of my PJ's and hopped into the shower.
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Once I was out, I threw on a blue and black striped shirt, a nice one that could be considered decent. Than I threw on a pair of ripped jeans and some black heels that the teachers wouldn't notice.
I grabbed my backpack then was running out the door to hop on the bus.
It doesn't sound like such a big deal, I know. But now I was going to see my best friend whose mom had just died.
She was greiving, I wouldn't blame her. But soon I would.
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I can't really write, so plese tell me if it's any good!
