Reflections

Part 1

12 years after...
"Zara, get your ass up!!"

I forced open one eye, and groaned. My very (very) perky Aunt Lilac stood over me smiling with a spatula.

"I have pancakes downstairs!! And I would rather not drive you to school again, and you be late, again."

She left the room with a quick wave when she heard the buzz of the kitchen timer, and I reluctantly rolled out of my bed onto the floor (literally).

I tried to pick out a cute outfit, but from my choices of white tee shirts or white tee shirts, there wasn't really a variety of options. I tried to keep my style quite basic and comfort based, I spent a lot of time rushing around before school and didn't need the burden of 20 different shirts and pants to affect me even more.

After dragging my backpack down the stairs and sitting in front of a plate of lumpy, slightly burnt pancakes, Lilac turned to face me. "Daily checkup today!" she said with a smile.

Yeah that, due to my mother's death the police checked up on me once a month, since I'd already passed the age of 14 (most common year to develop the powers) they grew less and less tense, spacing the checkups in their grey, cold building farther and farther apart.

My aunt was still babbling on," I guess it's good! Good in way that you don't have your powers... I mean it would be cool if you could be like POW, BOOM ZI-" I cut my aunt off, "I'm pretty sure that is not how it works." She shook her spatula and shrugged.
~
School was literally the worst place. It's not that I despised learning, just the people I had to learn with. High schools could be summed up into 5 groups: jocks, nerds, the popular for no reason, goody goodies, the artistic, and the last (not really a group) me.

I wouldn't exactly call school Hell, or a prison. I would call it an abyss: a seemingly bottomless chasm where dreams go to die (and some social statuses along the way).

When I was 15 and a freshman, I remember begging Lilac to switch me to online schooling, or with a private tutor. I begged her to play the "Zara suffers from emotional trauma from her mothers death" card. But in reality it was the distress from my peers that pushed me over the edge. Minx Heathrow.

Okay let's just talk about that name: Minx Heathrow. Minx my cunning (ironic) bully who I want to punch every single day very very very much. I did that once by the way. Lesson learned: punching a girl named Minx who has lots of friends and allies does not work in your favor.

Back to the point, Minx was not to be messed with, but that didn't stop me.

I swung open the door to Heath High (oh wow wonder who's parent's funded that!!). Walking down the grey corridor I got a few (more than a few) nasty looks and snickers, but after surviving 2 years of high school already I could care less. "Oh hey look who it is!!" a voice screeched behind me. "Wearing the same outfit!! Again." Minx laughed.

I turned to face her, "Okay, Minx. I would not talk considering your name sounds like a Neopet, and you're named after a prostitute your daddy probably hires regularly."

She gasped, "Ok honey, whatever, at least my name is on the school." She rolled her eyes.

"At least I don't need dollar bills, and bleached hair to be known around the school. Wake up, everyone hates you princess!" I turned back down the hall as Minx Heathrow uttered a very nasty curse word; one I will save for the sake of innocence.

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author's note:
ok so this is a work in progress :) and if you like the idea of it and hope I continue I would love feedback, votes, promos etc.!!!

xoxo