* Hey everyone, this is my first story to post on here. I wrote this a year ago or something like that, and just re read it for the first time since then. I didn't change more than a few words. Please tell me what you think. I have more of this story in my head, and have the whole summer to work on it, and others that I've started. Please tell me what you think, I love constuctive criticism! :) And some of the formatting and spacing got messed up when I copied it to the site, so please ignore that. I tried to fix most of it! And I know this story definitely needs work, I just decided to wait to do anything to it until hearing whether or not it was worth working on! Thanks for reading! *
1~ Another Day, Unusual
As I got up from my bed, I assumed that today would just be another, monotonous day in my contained, uneventful life. After setting my book down, I made my way across the soft padded floor to my vanity table and looked in the mirror. I looked just the same as ever. Soft round cheeks, wet, pink lips, aquamarine eyes with just a hint of purple. All these features surrounded by my light, pink, unblemished skin. Licking my lips (though they hardly needed any more shine), I grabbed a soft, purple scrunchie and rooted it into a high ponytail. I smoothed down a flyaway blonde hair and looked back at myself, satisfied.
Deciding now would be a good time to change clothes, I sauntered over to my small dresser. The jeweled knob felt good in my palm. Inside, all the clothing dazzled with one color-purple. My eyes were drawn to an especially sparkly top, and I lifted it out. Yet upon doing this, I remembered the reason for why I had avoided wearing it for such a long time. The top had no sleeves, just sequined straps an inch and a half wide. The front glittered exquisitely; the reason the shirt always drew my eye. Yet in all its mesmerizing outer beauty, it was poorly designed. The inside was not lined with any sort of comfortable fabric at all. The last time I had been unfortunate enough to wear it, the sequins had hugged my body uncomfortably and left me with a terrible itchy rash. I shuddered at the memory, but another idea strung my mind. What good was an article of unwearable clothing? Usually it is no good at all, but this particular piece had a lot of usable material. Perhaps I could fashion it into something pretty and useful, like a pillow or jewelry. But as I pondered the possibilities, it all seemed like much more work than I was giving credit for, so I placed it back among the slue of purple. Instead, I chose a soft long sleeved shirt made of a plushie material. It fit me tightly, which was usually not my preferred style, but it was so soft I left it on. I almost picked out a flowy skirt, but then decided against it, and chose instead to leave on the purple bottoms I was already wearing. They were capri lengh, and a soft sweatshirt material. They also possessed a subtle sparkle that I found quite dazzling. Choosing to leave off shoes, I dubbed the day a lounge-around day. Yesterday had been busy, so today would be for resting.
Walking into the next room, I gasped.
"Oh Mitch, what were you thinking?" I found myself in the nearest mirror and put on an angry face, "It's horrible! Why would you put the couch on the same wall as the bookcases? Ahhg!" staring back at myself, I switched my expression to innocent.
"I just wanted some change. Everything here is so, repetitive. Even the bright orange walls are getting old."
"But now I can't get to the historical section," I retorted, letting my reflection turn back to angry.
"You-I-we-whatever- don't even like history books." Both sides of me were angry now.
"Just fix it!" I hissed at myself.
Sighing, I accepted defeat, "Fine. But tomorrow. I'm still tired and sore. That white couch is much heavier than it looks! And I had no help, I might add," eyeing my reflection shiftily. This caused a wry smile to spread across my face. It impressed me how convincingly mean I could be. Yet while straightening out a bump in my hair, I realized how sad my life really was. Had I become so lonesome that I was actually resorting to talking to myself? Sure, in my head was normal. Surely everyone talks to themselves in their head. But out loud? And not even a normal conversation, but an argument! It was pathetic. I scoffed at myself.
