DIFFERENT [BWWM]✔

Chapter 1

Knock knock knock

Sometimes I wonder why I just can't sleep in peace in this house.

"Come in" I murmur, stuffing my face in my pillow

"Hey sweetie, get up, you don't want to be late for you first day of senior year" my mom says, entering my room and opening up the curtains. The sunlight that draws in immediately causes me to want to crawl back under the covers.

"Like I care about that crap anyways" I mutter.

I love school, but something about senior year just doesn't make it roll.
You know I feel like the higher I go, the tougher it becomes.
Know that feeling? I guess you don't.

"Most of the high schoolers I know love senior year, I don't get why you don't" my mom says, sitting at the edge of my bed.

"Mom, we've gone through this over and over again, I. Am. Not. Most. High schoolers. You. Know" I enunciate each word carefully, getting up and sitting against the headboard of my bed.  "I am me" I continue "and I'd love it if you stop comparing me"

"Okay, you know what? I'm sorry, now get ready and come down, your breakfast is ready, I don't want you getting late so your dad will drop you off and I'll come get you after school, tomorrow then you start driving your car" she sternly states

"Alright" I mutter and shove her out of my room and strip out off my clothes, walking slowly to the bathroom.

I'd wanted to argue, but something about the look she was giving me told me clearly not to. So I just obeyed.
I don't know how she is eight months heavily pregnant but still gets to control my life this way. Moms!

I get out of the shower and brush my teeth. I normally do that before I shower but my thinking got the best of me. My bestfriend tell me I think too much and I guess she's right.

I leave the bathroom and go to my walk in closet. I open the french doors leading to my balcony to let fresh air inside whilst I get dressed. I remember drawing on my back then pink walls when I was six years old. Life was so much easier at that time, but I got in trouble for it. Although, I'd much prefer to get into trouble for drawing on my walls and mom scolding me and later looking for someone to repaint them than grow up. I know it feels good to have some level of maturity, but a part of me always wants to remain a child. One that doesn't think of anything other than to play with dolls. One that can simply calculate one plus one and know it's two. But I know life doesn't work that way, and at a point, we all have to grow up whether we like it or not. It's how we were created, and there is absolutely nothing that can be done about it.

Although, my now lavender and black theme walls is just my taste.
I'm not the rich type of girl who has money running all over her but I guess I'm okay. Better than others if you ask me. My dad makes sure I don't lack anything. Considering I'm a daddy's girl. Oh I love that man sooo much.

I now decide it's time to find an outfit. I don't take forever looking for an outfit but I sure do dress well.
Unlike some black girls, I don't hate my skin or my body. Infact I love it. I think it's very important to feel confident in your own skin. No one else can show you that kind of love if you don't show it for yourself first. If you don't understand that your body was perfectly created, life will get a bit harder, because everything that has to do with your skin is just 25% for you. Never good enough. I certainly don't wear revealing clothes, but I do not cover my skin either. I am proud to be born black, even though living in a place like America, surrounded by so many white people, which puts some kind of thought in your head, there's no day I wake up wishing to have a milky skin and blonde hair. I like my thick hair just the way it is.