How Stereotypical!

Chapter 1: Just Another Typical Day... Not!

Chapter 1: Just Another Typical Day... Not!

*Kate's POV*

Ring! Ring!

   "Shut up! You useless piece o' shit!" I screeched, throwing my stupid alarm on the ground. I pulled the covers over my head and worked on getting back to sleep. Suddenly, light flooded into my room. "What the f*ck!" I groaned.

   "Katherine Anise Sanders! You mind your language young woman! Now get out of bed or you'll be late!" My mother chastised as she finished drawing the curtains of my bedroom windows. I sighed and pulled the sheets off myself. "Threw the alarm again? It's a wonder this thing still works." She said smiling lightly. I ignored her and stretched like a cat. As you can see, I am totally a morning person. Note the poorly hidden sarcasm.

    "Get ready and come to the kitchen. I have bacon and eggs for breakfast." My mom said, before striding purposefully out of my room. I painfully left the sweet comfort of my beautiful bed and headed to the bathroom to brush and take a much needed shower. I'm a bit surprised I didn't get grounded for swearing. I guess mom must have given up. It's a rarity for me to complete a sentence without swearing. My favorite word it f*ck. It literally defies every damn rule in English grammar! Noun, adjective, verb! It f*cking can f*cking be f*cking used any-f*cking-where in a f*cking sentence. See what I did there?

      I messily put some toothpaste on my brush and began vigorously brushing the bad breath out of my mouth while studying myself in the bathroom mirror. A pair of extremely tired green eyes stared back at me. My long brown hair was knotted up and looked in dire need of a hair cut. The bags under my eyes and my oh-so-pale skin made me look like a f*cking zombie. I guess this year's Halloween costume is settled. Just have to make sure I get nearly no sleep and have my mom kick my f*cking a** off of bed in the morning.

    You see, this is the stuff you have to deal with when you drag. Especially if you haven't lost a single race in a year and a half. They called me Street Queen. Why you ask? It's because if you challenge me for a race with any machine which rubs on fuel, I accept and kick your a**. That's how good I am. Being Street Queen had its perks. The pay, respect and mostly the joy of sending an egoistic male's pride straight to the fiery pits of f*cking hell. But on more than once occasion, it has left me sneaking out at 12am, taking on some a**hole in a race, getting into a street fight I didn't wanna be a part of, sneaking back in at 3am and to top that off, being woken up at f*cking 7am, giving new only 4 f*cking hours of sleep. Looking like a zombie is pretty much a given.

       I took a quick shower, washing my unruly hair. Then I wrapped a towel around myself and tip toed top my closet. After drying my body, I grabbed the hair dryer and let my hair dry out in its natural waves. Taking a lacy red bra and panties, I put them on and then stood my-now semi nude-self in front of my clothes rack. I picked out a pair of blue jeans, a read sleeveless crop top and my favorite black leather jacket. On an after thought, I took out my full length black riding boots as well. I quickly put on the outfit and walked to my dressing table.

      Dabbing since concealer top hide my under eye bags, I applied stone black eye kohl to bring out my eyes. I also added some mascara. Top finish it off, I applied some bright red lipstick. Opening my jewellery drawer, I grabbed some red stoned hoops for my first piercing, black stoned studs for my second and silver metallic studs for my third. Deciding to change my navel ring as well, I took out a red stoned hanging one. Finally, I put on an old chain with a faded gold ring strung on it. It was special to me, sort of like a good luck charm.

       I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes prickling slightly. "KATE! BREAKFAST!" My mum screamed from downstairs. "COMING!" I said after taking a deep breath. I zipped up my jacket so mum couldn't see my piercing and saved down the stairs, straight into the kitchen. "Morning mom!" I said placing a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiled and kissed my forehead in return. Then I turned to my 4 year old little sister, who was seated on the kitchen counter like a princess. "Hey sweet cheeks!" I said tickling her. "Kawie! Swop!" Kyla said giggling as I  leaned down and blew a raspberry in her tummy. She squirmed and let out a high pitched squeal.