Running From You

Chapter 1

Huh, because I'm happy

Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof

Because I'm happy

Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth

Because I'm happy

Clap along if you know what happiness is to you

Because I'm happy

Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do

I wake up to the chorus of Pharrel William's Happy blaring from my alarm clock.

I groan into my pillow but sit up on my bed and shut off the alarm, not really in the mood for such a happy-go-lucky song. It's only 6.30am, and I am not much of a morning person.

I try to rub the sleep off my eyes as I grab my phone and slouch across the room to the adjoining bathroom. It's pretty, colored in white and deep purple; my favorite color, and I have my own big bathtub which I make sure to enjoy regularly. I search for my favorites playlist on my phone and turn up the volume before stepping into the shower.

"Right from the start, you were a thief," I belt out over Pink as I scrub myself with body wash. "You stole my heart, and I your willing victim, I let you see the parts of me that weren't all that pretty, and with every touch you fixed them..."

I've sung along to six songs until I turn off the water and dry my hair into a bamboo towel before wrapping another towel around myself. I make my way out of the bathroom and into my walk-in-closet almost bursting with clothes. I may have a problem. 

I pick out a white sweater dress and attach a brown belt around my slim waist, then pull on brown knee-high boots and an off-white jacket.

Then I make my way to my dresser and plug in my pink hair dryer. It takes almost twenty minutes until my black hair is completely dry. I leave the natural curls as they are and pull it all up on a high ponytail that brings out my defined cheekbones and then pull out my make-up bag and pat on a little foundation. Not too much, though, since I already have a pretty good skin. I line my dark brown eyes softly with brown eyeliner, then coat my long lashes with mascara. I finish the natural look with blush and moist my lips with chapstick.

As I put on some gold earrings and a delicate bracelet, l look at myself from every angle. I smile at my reflection, happy with the way I look today. You wouldn't know I haven't slept much lately just by looking at me, which is good. I don't need to give anybody anything more to gossip about around the school; there will already be enough.

Now that they have actual real juicy stuff about me to talk about, I want to come out as the confident, whole, unbeatable Nora I am instead of the shattered girl everybody will be expecting.

News flash people: I don't go down that easily, I smirk at myself and grab my handbag before exiting my room.

When I enter the spacious kitchen, mom's already leaning against the island, her other hand holding a cup of coffee and the other writing something on a thick calendar. Something work-related, no doubt. Being the manager of a huge luxury hotel has its perks, like our huge house, but it also makes her really busy.

"Morning," I greet as I open the fridge and take out an organic peach yogurt cup. I rip off the lid and sink my spoon into the creamy deliciousness.

"Morning, honey," my mom answers without raising her eyes from her notes. "You sleep well?"

I shrug, "Yeah, okay."