Chi 1:
"No time for camera’s we’ll use our eyes instead…"
I was vaguely aware of my phones muffled alarm buzzing beneath my pillow. Annoyed, I tried to smother the sound, only to send it careening to the floor.
‘Happy freaking Tuesday.’
“Chi, do you want breakfast?” My mom sang from downstairs.
I moaned, flip flopping beneath my cozy sheets, before reluctantly dragging myself out bed and in front of the mirror. I looked like a troll doll that just stepped off a roller coaster ride. After three years as a loyal customer, I deserved an explanation as to why it was that whenever I got up in the morning, I didn’t look like those girls in the morning burst skin care commercials. Sadly any radiant natural beauty I may have possessed, had escaped me, and left me with a mess of dirty blonde locks and blotchy fair skin.
“CHI WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR BREAKFAST?” Mom hollered in her, ‘I don’t have time for this,’ tone she frequently used when she didn’t have time for this.
“I’ll make my own breakfast ma!” I shouted back, making sure not to sound as if I was giving her, ‘a tude,’ which was mom speak for attitude.
She heaved an audible sigh that sent a pang of guilt running through me for all of a Nano second, before I began the daily struggle of finding something suitable to wear. My mom loved to mother me, but I was a senior in high school now, a fact that she had yet to grasp.
After successfully dumping the contents of my closet onto my bed, I began sorting through the endless mountain of clothes. Finally I found one of my dad’s old flannel shirts and a pair of leggings and threw them on. I prided myself on being active and keeping my body in tip top shape, but that didn’t mean I needed to go all minimalist on my clothing selection. Modest was more my thing.
Grabbing the nearest brush in one hand and an army of hair ties and bobby pins in the other, I began to go to work on my hair. Once I had tamed the beast into a nice shapely bun, and ran a bit of mascara through my lashes, I grabbed my backpack and Camera case, and headed for the door.
“Bye mom!” I yelled before heading towards living hell, aka Howard-Stein High.
YOU ARE READING
Camera Girl
Teen Fiction“If a picture’s worth a thousand words, then get ready for an earful because I just took like, a million.” - Chia This is Chia Mode, but most people just call her Chi. Don’t be fooled, despite her impressively intimidating five feet two inches, Chi...
