My alarm rings, waking me from my dreamless slumber. Another day surrounded by idiots.
As I get out of bed and turn off my alarm, I think of what waits for me when I get on the bus. All the faces staring at me while I walk through the aisle. I cringe at the mere thought of it, walking out of my room and making my way downstairs.
I'm greeted by the usual feeling of emptiness. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that my parents leave for work before I wake up. It gives me time to think about my terrible life without being interrupted by the obnoxious "good morning, sweetie" and "have fun at school!"
I grab a hardened blueberry muffin from the counter. Not that I mind that it's hard; I don't eat much more than a quarter of the food I'm "supposed" to eat.
Apparently I'm supposed to eat until I can't move, according to my parents, doctor, relatives, and pretty much everyone else. My opinion is that I should only eat until I'm slightly less hungry because I don't see the purpose of eating any more than that.
A year ago, some idiot and his mouth-breathing friends took the whole "teasing" thing farther than usual by calling me a fat smart-ass. And I don't know what I was thinking, but I stopped eating "normally". Since then, I realized that it's much better that way. I don't even know how, but I feel like the amount I used to eat is way to much. I'm surprised I didn't explode from eating so much by then!
After I eat my portion of said muffin, I wash up and get dressed.
Throwing on my usual skinny jeans and black hoodie, I grab my backpack and run a brush through my hair before leaving home.
My bus stop where I wait for the Torture-mobile to take me to the Torture-building is just down the street.
As I get to the curb, I put my earbuds in, and blast some music. Music in, world out.
YOU ARE READING
"That" girl
Teen FictionShe was just the girl who never fit in. But then he showed up