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Chapter Two: #PrettyBoi

Chapter Two: #PrettyBoi

Stacy suddenly woke up sweating (God, why was she always sweaty?) and turned over to look at her clock, wondering what the heck she was previously dreaming about. Usually she could recall her dreams word for word, but now she was just drawing a blank.

Strange.

Anyways, it was now, unfortunately, four in the morning. Dawn was just peaking over the horizon, birds started to chirp to announce their presence, and all Stacy really wanted to do was to go back to sleep before she started school for the first time (Well, not the first time; actually more like her ninth), but her body was too stubborn and rude and thought that that particular idea was a stupidly idiotic one.

With no other options, she groaned then sat up in her bed and yawned like Cinderella would, but like without all of the birds and   mice.

She was definitely not a morning person, but there was just something really satisfying about waking up like a princess that she decided to ignore that fact.

Stacy pulled off the covers and then got out of her bed only to trip over something on the floor causing her to fall like the klutz she knew she was. She groaned again, this time through her rug, face first, knowing that her fairytale morning was now ruined by reality as it always was.

Since it required more energy that Stacy totally did not currently have, she just laid there and groaned a little louder, more exasperatedly, and then whispered a continuous stream of some not so nice choice words afterwards.

Her muscles were still soar from packing her things up a week ago and she was pretty sure she needed a new matress because her back was aching. She was legit dieing and no one was awake to hear her pleas for help.

Gosh, she was such a drama queen, but was she gonna admit that to herself? Um, no. She didn't need to deal with the contradiction that was her mortal being right now. Trust me, that comes later.

Stacy got bored of laying on the scratchy rug after five minutes or so, and soon found the strength to push herself up into a sitting position.

I must have tripped over a box or something, she thought as she looked around her room. I mean that was a reasonable enough thought since cardboard boxes still littered her floor like the plague.

Okay, so, yes, she'd been living in the house for five days, but not even half of her room was unpacked yet. To be honest, only her bed and clothes were fully unpacked, but could you blame her? Shelly never followed through on unpacking all of Stacy's stuff when she lost like she said she would, so Stacy had to actually do the work herself.

So far things weren't going so well.

In the last five days, she had broken a nail, stubbed all of her toes at least once, got a paper cut, welcomed random bruises all over her body, and had bumped her head on the floor twice from slipping on one thing or another.

What could she say? She had lived, more like survived, through the worst of injuries. She lived a dangerous life.

Stacy had declared some time ago, actually two days ago, that getting her life together just took too much time out of her day, and required to much energy.

Also, a miracle.

There were far too many other important things she had to do like read Percy Jackson, Harry Potter and Sherlock fanfiction on Wattpad, catch up on her animes (mostly AOT and Black Butler), and text her friends in other parts of the world.

Well, at least this was what she found to be more important. Her parents on the other hand?

Not so much.