Darkness, deeper and deeper I feel myself sinking until all my vision is completely gone. I want this to end, "Please make it stop!" I cry into the nothingness, but my voice comes out silent as if I am drowning in a sea of tar. "It is just a dream" I keep telling myself in my mind, but it all feels so real. "Is this what dying feels like?" I wonder. Either way, I'm in a dream, it just might not be one I awake from. Suddenly I feel myself being ripped out of the darkness, I wonder when it will end.
"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" My brother yells, in time with my alarm clock, as I jolt awake in my bed blinded by the sudden light around me. As my seven-year-old brother runs around and out of my room he raises his arms like airplane wings, man, he is obnoxious in the morning. I rub my eyes as my mother walks in with various colored letters.
"Some mail came for you, darling," she says while shuffling through the pile of envelopes in her hand. She finally looks up to hand me the letter and exclaims " Oh my goodness, you look terrible." "Thanks, mom," I grumble, obviously annoyed. "That's not what I meant," she says, "You just looked like you didn't sleep at all." Then she glares at me, "you better not have, " she says. "Not have what?" I say extremely confused. "If you pulled an all-nighter again, you'll be in serious trouble." I roll my eyes. "Mom, I didn't pull an all-nighter, I just didn't sleep well, geeze over-the-top much?" She nods her head apologetically and tells me to start getting ready. She walks out and I get out of bed and go check my mirror. She wasn't wrong, I look like a mess, my hair is plastered to my face, I am a sickly palish-green color, and my under eyes look like I drew on them with a purple marker. "Last night was worse than I thought,"I whisper as I attempt to cover my bags with concealer. After I get ready, I grab my bag and head downstairs, my mom is trying to get my brother to sit down, and my father is making sure the food doesn't burn. I grab a protein shake out of the fridge, say my goodbye's to my family, and get on the bus.
YOU ARE READING
Hope
AcciónWhat if you were different than anyone else? Would you think them inferior, or would you call yourself a mistake?
