I stare at an exhausted expression and sigh. Glass seperates us, but we’re not separate at all. I tip my head and frown. The bags under my multi-coloured eyes give me a zombie-look. I blink slowly. When did I get so exhausted looking? I’m not tired, at all. I’m excited and happy usually, but I always look tired. Okay, not excited. I’m not tired, though. I lock eyes with myself in the mirror. The dark brown almost black, in the middle of my eyes, goes to light yellow brown, then green-blue, then gray-blue with black lines along the right side. All are tiny starbursts of colour. A single black spot is in the Iris of my right eye, in the blue ring. I wonder how I got eyes like these. They’re so unique, they aren’t blue or green. I think about my life currently, and whisper while fixing my short wavy blonde hair and my chain choker, “I’ll be me, you be you, and we’ll see where this goes. Good? Good.”
I almost feel odd talking to my reflection, but it helps. Stop. Right there. Don’t assume I’m just a tired little model. I am NOT a model. I have zits and ingrown hairs from my chest, the front of my neck, over my face, through my hair, down the BACK of my neck, and down my upper back. I look like a poka dot. Anyways, thought I’d clear that up. People assume book characters are pretty and zitless and I’m sorry I’m not. This isn’t a fairy tale. It isn’t a novel. It’s my life.
I think about so much in the mirror, you know? I wish I could go through it, to a safer world. At least, I think it’s a safer world. It might be a good thing my reflection prevents that. I suddenly remember my disgust for mirrors and walk away from it. The warm linoleum floor is hard underfoot, like a rock in the summer. I glance around at the scene before me. A white dog, an old tube tv, and a random cluster of chairs and couches. I turn, taking the cream corner.
The table is right there, against the wall. The wall takes a sharp ninety then forms a square with the rest of the room. I bypass my kitchen, I will resist the Pepsi! I WILL DO IT! I stop and glance at the fridge. No, no I won’t. I’m thirsty, and Pepsi is tasty. I trot to the fridge, semi-ashamed of myself. I see the blue label and grip it lightly. I crack the can and put it to my lips. A simple act, it shouldn’t cause my whole life to explode before my eyes right? It shouldn’t cause a life altering catastrophe? Well, you’re wrong. That can changed my life.
YOU ARE READING
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FantasyTo whom this may concern, My adventures are innumerable, but I have decided to keep record of my most daring one. The grandest, most spontaneous adventure of my life. I cwould not be who I am today if it was not for this grand adventure. I would...
