Early the next morning I decide it would be a perfect time to take a quick stroll - you know - to observe the world before it gets overtaken by the hustle and bustle of the day. I'm meandering slowly along when suddenly the situation quite escalates and I find myself trekking thirty-freakin-four miles into London.
I am so sick and tired of this! My legs are utterly ridiculous!
"Look! I know you have a personality of your own and I fully support expressing yourself but is plodding like a million miles through a god damn blizzard really in our best interest?!" I scream into the howling wind.
"Shut up!" the left leg yells back
"Yeah Minty! Ain't nobody interested in what trash you spew" the right one follows.
Holy mother of Theresa May! Remind me why I willingly gave birth to these monsters again?!
Anyway, like ten billion years later the golden streets of the London, the capital of the city of England come into view and finally I allow myself to think of bed.. to think of rest.. to think of.. THE SNAPCHAT SLAYER
The words leap off the newspaper and run at me, clawing my skin, clambering inside my ears (quite literally, it really isn't very comfortable). The papers are piled up in front of me, each one screaming of murder and each sporting a picture of yours truly... me...
"WHAT THE DICKENS?!" I screech "BITCH PLEASE HOLD MY FRICKIN KNAPSACK I'M FAMOUS NOW"
My joyous declarations echo round the deserted street corner (yeah where the heck is everyone?!) but then the truth dawns on me.. hang on am I being accused of murder on the front of a national newspaper?! Balderdash!
I skim the article and it turns out that irrelevant boy bled to death after our.. let's say.. interaction.. yesterday. Oops.
"Boy stabbed in the stomach nine times after a miscommunication over snapchat"
"Left on his front stoop to die..."
"What has this generation come to?! I quite give up!"
Obviously discovering that I (kinda) accidentally murdered a boy because he sent me a s..s.. (can barely say it) ..streak.. (SHUDDER) kinda bothers me but the thing that gets me most is the picture they've put of me to accompany the article. The thing is.. my face doesn't look quite right.. something is very wrong.. then the realisation hits me..
...eyebrows..
they've photoshopped my eyebrows!
My perfect pointy pair have been altered into grotesque huge slugs, totally too dark a shade for my skin and completely shapeless!
I try to scream but no sound comes out.. I feel tears welling up in my eyes but they are unable to escape..
I am totally, utterly and completely SHOOK.
I try to run but everywhere I go there are pictures of me .. of the eyebrows.. billboards, buses, newspapers, shop windows all sport the picture of me with those.. those monstrosities as thick as treacle just dripping down my face.
I let my legs take control again and they ferry me to an isolated alleyway that reeks of doormice and despair. Just as I think I'm safe an old witch approaches me, her back bent and toes long and pointy.
"Well look who we have here! If it isn't the girl with eyebrows bigger than her future!" she cackles in a menacing tone
"No!" I cry "Don't believe everything you see in the media! My eyebrows aren't really like that!" but before I can finish my sentence she has gone.
"Wither are you vanish'd?" I yelp but into the air has she flown and I am alone once more.
I sink to the ground, the harsh and hostile wind whipping round me like a pack of vultures circling their prey, and I let out a heavy sigh.
Who has done this to me? Who on earth would be so cruel and spiteful that they would manipulate my eyebrows and turn them into vicious devils straight from the depths of hell?
This is going to ruin my reputation! My mother will never look upon me with those kind eyes of hers again.. her chocolatey pools will be full of contempt and I can quite kiss goodbye the possibility of ever having a romantic partner to spend my life with! One quick google search will bring up these horrors that supposedly reside on my face and I will be laughed off as some kind of ridiculous joke!
Can't people see past this idiotic façade the news have created and see the real me? See the girl with eyebrows as fresh as a nike trackkie?
I limp on through the melancholy backstreets and arrive at a shop window, full of televisions, all of which are of course broadcasting the beastly brows.
"Eyebrows really can make or break a face" someone in the crowd gathered round the window whispers "in this case the visage is downright shattered".
I feel the anger welling up inside me. How very dare they! Impulsively, my hand reaches for the butter knife I always keep in my bra.. then I pause.. is violence really the way to solve a situation? Look where it got me this time! If I off this random dude will my face be splattered across the nation this time tomorrow but with my nose impossibly long? Or worse.. with my hair colour changed beyond recognition??
But then lady gaga always assured me "baby, you were born this way" So should I be myself? Should I be someone else ??? THIS IS TURNING INTO A FULL BLOWN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS!
I gaze down into a murky puddle and begin to ponder jumping in it like peppa pig to cheer myself up when I am met with an extraordinary sight.. my own face being reflected up at me. Obviously by this I mean I am extraordinarily beautiful but this isn't what I'm focusing on. To my surprise my eyebrows dominate my entire countenance, and are thiccc.. and I'm not talking no ordinary thick I'm talking TIMMY THICK THICC. My breath catches in my throat.. is it.. is it possible that my brows have been the way portrayed in the papers the entire time ?
OOPS MY BAD
YOU ARE READING
My not so ordinary life
ЮморMinty Bubble is just another ordinary girl who lives an ordinary life etc etc not very interesting but I recommend you read this book and copy everything she does and says. BASED ON A TRUE STORY
