Narelle

Sleep, Regret, Repeat

Chapter two of 'Narelle'! Enjoy!

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I woke up at the crack of dawn, with a breathtaking sunrise glimmering through my bedroom curtains. At least I think it'd be breathtaking, if perhaps another person witnessed it. I don't really care about things like that, and as I watch the sun rise to become a vibrant, clear sky, I remain emotionless, as per usual. As it's a Thursday, I have to get ready for school. My school uniform is waiting for me on my cluttered dresser, and I reluctantly put it on. I'm NOT a fan of school. It's not like I'll need anything I learn in there when I reach the real world, but you never know. The uniform is a white blouse, a black shirt, crimson tie, black blazer and black dress shoes which I always make sure are immaculate and highly polished, so they look like miniature mirrors. I then brush my hair, which is the colour of a crow's mighty feathers, and I tie it back.

My body-length mirror is in the corner of my bedroom, and I walk over to it, my legs feeling like a wobbly jelly. In the glass, I see a girl with a porcelain complexion, the skin outlining her slim figure. Her skirt looks way too big for her matchstick legs, and the blouse shows off her flat stomach. Her hair is glossy and thick, tied back into a messy bun. The colour of her hair is an astonishing black, which was rather hypnotising to look at. Her face was the shape of a diamond, with the jawline well-defined. There were no colour in her cheeks whatsoever, and her expression was completely emotionless. Her light pink lips were positioned in a straight line, with no arch to show a smile or frown. But the most interesting part about this girl were her eyes. Even though dark circles surrounded them, they were beautiful. The iris was the colour of the ocean, which you could just imagine if you looked into them. The colour was absolutely stunning, and this feature definitely stood out from what was otherwise quite a bland and depressing appearance. Now, who was this girl, you might be asking? Well, that's easy.

The girl was me.

Narelle Walters.

As I continue to gaze into the mirror, a familiar shape appears behind me. A dark, black cloud that I have seen and remembered for my entire existence. It seems to analyse me, planting seeds of doubt into my already muddled brain. It doesn't say anything out loud, but it screams in my head, so loud that it'd be enough to drive even the calmest person insane.

'' You're ugly and bland. You are too skinny. When you look like that, it's no surprise people don't acknowledge your existence."

I sigh heavily. It's the same words each and every morning that I'm told by it, but I don't care. What is the point of caring about it, anyway? It's not like it'll go away, because any alter I make to myself doesn't seem to be enough for this critical cloud.

I pick up my school bag, and shove all of my books into it. I sling it onto my back, exclaiming a cry as I realise its immense weight. As I go down the stairs, the air is eerie and dead silent. My mother works most days, and I almost never see her. As for my dad? He died when I was about five or six, in a freak car accident caused by a imbecilic drunk driver. Which means that I'm almost always alone, which I got used to many years ago.

I enter the kitchen and open the stainless-steel fridge. I see a large variety and quantity of food, but I'm not hungry~ I rarely am these days.
'I'll eat something later,' I think to myself.
On that note, I leave the house, and begin the short walk to school. The air outside is much more refreshing, and the gentle breeze of wind brushes against my cheeks. The scent of freshly cut grass and various types of flora enters my nostrils, and the sun was shining brightly. To a regular person, this atmosphere would've been cheerful and a pleasure to be in. But for me, the dark cloud seemed to overpower, telling me that 'Air is air. Why should you care about it? You have more important things to be thinking about, like what an embarrassment you are to the human race'.