I close my eyes as I lie on my bed and release a huge sigh.
My name is Sabrina. I'm 14, actually I'm 14 next month-March.
I'm not the happiest of kids, which is a shame really. Not many people can handle me, I'm just too different? Or just extremely annoying.
My relationship with my mom is perfect and I guess some people just don't get it. Just like how they don't understand why I have less "freedom" compared to them. I tell people it bothers me, but to be quite honest it doesn't. I don't mind at all. It's my moms rules and all I have to do is follow them, and I do. Of course, as I'm a teenager so I still talk back a little, but not a lot. I love my mom more then I've loved anyone. I would literally do anything for her. She's extremely important to me and I'm scared to break her trust, I don't want to break such a rare bond.
Me and my mom talk a lot, we talk about our problems as no one else gets it, but me and my mom are in the same boat. I talk to her about how lonely I feel, even when I'm around people. And she talks to me about how she's afraid to lose her fiancé. We talk about a lot more as we are extremely comfortable around eachother.
Being completely honest, I would rather have my mom than any friends, it would be nice to have some though.
My mom talked to me about what she used to do when she had no friends in high school, she said that she's take a book and sit in a quiet place and just read. I think it's a good idea. Maybe sit in form every now and then and just read. Or maybe sit by the lockers near science, it's rare that anyone sits their during lunch.
I sigh another large sigh and sit up slowly. I stretch my arms in a "Y" shape and get up from my bed. I walk over the dog bed, my art stuff on the floor, and head over to my closet. I pull out my uniform for the day and begin to get dressed. I then slip on my shoes, pack my art folder, put my camera back in its case from this mornings terrible photography, and head downstairs for my blazer. I brush my hair and put my pens in my pocket, I take my pencil case and books back upstairs and put them on my bag. I walk to my moms room and take a glance in the mirror.
"This is who I am, accept it." I say quietly to myself. And with that, I grab my bags and begin my journey to school.
YOU ARE READING
Is It Meant To Be?
Teen FictionA girl is cast to the side, more ore less by her own choice. She wants to venture through the lonely life. It's a chance she's willing to take.
