Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Breland Wednesday, April 17
"Fuck." I rub my hand over my face, wiping the tiredness away. Every morning dread washes over me, wanting to go back to sleep and never wake up usually wins. But even staying at home makes me want to go to school.
I reluctantly push the warm blankets off of my body, feeling the cold morning air trap me. I get myself up from bed, feeling weak in my legs and arms, but after a couple years, you get used to it; The feeling of having this weight on your shoulder throughout the whole day.
I take my night wear off, which is usually just a t-shirt and sweatpants; I dress into my usual clothing, staring at myself in the mirror. Some days I like myself, others I don't, "Another day of hell." I sigh, running my hand through my hair.
Grabbing my backpack, and shoes from the side of my bed, I toss them both over my shoulder. I am not ready for today, I just feel like today's not gonna go my way, like it ever does anyway. But I don't have a good feeling about today. Like if I walk out of my bedroom door right now i'm just going to regret it.
*tap* *tap*
I shift my attention to my window, confused. I walk over, placing my bag and shoes on my bed gently, I move to my window, leaning my hands on the sill, I look out.
I slump my shoulders and huff, "Oh my god, Beverly." I say under my breath. The beautiful redhead jumps up and down waving at me to come down. Why is she here? She never walks me to school, why now?
I nod my head slowly, giving a strained smile. I turn away, harshly throwing my shoes and bag over my shoulder again and march towards my bedroom door. I place my hand on the cold door knob, what if I just don't go? She would leave eventually, right?
I stomp my foot lightly, rolling my eyes.
No, I can't do that, that's a shitty thing to do and I'm not going to add a 'shitty person' to the list of things I hate about myself.
I twist the handle, still not ready for today, "Holy fuck," I let out a sigh, "wrong room dude, it's the one right behind you."
The shitless toned stranger looks behind him awkwardly.
He turns my way again, "Thanks." He nods his head and turns around. He opens my mothers' door, and I catch a glimpse of her, naked, asleep in bed.
You wanna know why everyone calls me a slut at school? Well, it's certainly not because I've slept with a ton of boys, that's for sure. No, It's because my mom has, Angelica Winters. I can't lie, my mother was very beautiful she still is, just looks kinda dead. I never got any of her looks. She had beautiful silky brown lock; that now looks like burnt straw. And she has mesmerizing hazel eyes. If you never knew us, then you would probably would think we're just two strangers. People around town say that I look more like my dad, which I hate.
