Midnight • (Zayn Malik)

black nail polish

I ran my fingers along the ridges of the record I held in my hands. I set the black disc on the phonograph and listened to the rain drops plopping lazily against my window as the stylus began scratching the ridges of the record. The soft static accompanied the vibrating drum beats of Do I Wanna Know? and so I got ready for the place demons dwell and suck the soul from you. Aka school. At least it was raining; it's always peaceful when I'm stressed or dreading school, which is every day by the way. It keeps the forest behind my house dense too; it makes for a great place to do draw.

I scan the contents of my closet and smile at the lack of color. My mother always tries to incorporate color into every aspect of my life, including my closet, and I guess I just like the idea of having control over something. I was one of those kids that ripped the heads off of their dolls, and well my mother was hoping for a little princess that adored anything pink or sparkly.

I removed a black and white striped t-shirt from the hanger and grabbed the nearest pair of black skinny jeans from the shelf. Squishing my legs into my jeans in the morning was probably my least favorite part of the day and though it really doesn't have anything to do with my big thighs it sucks. I slipped a few rings on, my new choker and my favorite tattered up pair of black boots. I take one look in my length mirror at the basically white waves that made their way past my elbows and threw the mass up into a pony tail. Normally I'd shower and I guess make my hair more presentable but it was Monday and well I don't care enough. I swiped on a light coat of mascara that didn't make my dark brown eyes any lighter and fixed my eyebrows. They were my favorite feature, if anyone ever asked, long, arching and dark. I left my lips and skin pale as the paint on my walls because color wasn't really my thing.

"Luna you better get your ass to school, you're gonna be late!"

I swear my mother's screeching was almost worse than school.

"Shit," I breathed, looking down at my naked nails.

I meant to paint them earlier this morning but sleep was more important. I grabbed my trusty bottle of black and tossed it into my purse before taking my record off and lifting my keys from their place on the wall.

Stepping out onto the damp concrete I inhaled the scent of rain and smiled as drop after drop soaked a different part of me every second. I unlocked my black Prius and tossed my purse inside. The huge white mansion I called my home looked way too damn cheery as I pulled out of my driveway. I cranked the volume up as I hooked my phone up. The music was never the same as listening to my records in my room. I missed the soft static and my warm bed already.

It was the start of a new semester at good old Charlotte High School and honestly the only thing I was excited for was the transition from my painting class to my drawing class. I was an okay painter, but drawing was my strong suit and I don't think there's an edge of paper in my possession that hasn't been doodled on.

I pulled into the nearest parking spot I could find to the school, grabbed my stuff and dragged myself inside. The rain was already starting to sputter out and I narrowed my eyes at the peeking sun rays that threatened to blast through on my perfectly grey morning. I swung the metal door open and was blasted with unnecessary air conditioning and the smell of a million cheap perfumes and colognes. Welcome back.

The black fringe of my purse fluttered as I walked and pushed past all of the sun tanned teenagers with their pastel colored clothes and Sperry's. I observed all of the new couples and breakups that developed over the holiday break. They all looked the same anyway, so I wouldn't really consider it moving on, but that's just me. I didn't really have friends, other than this brunette chick named Violet that I've basically known my entire life. So you wouldn't catch me amongst the clumps of sunglasses wearers and bleach blondes. And yeah my hair was as bleached as you could get, but that type of blonde- basically white hair- wasn't up to today's social standards here in Punta Gorda, Florida. And even if it was, hot pink nails aren't really my thing.