Burnt Skies

Destruction of Yesterday

My name is Callie Marshall.

I am 16 years old.

I am what most would call, unfortunate.

I was born into a family that has a great deal of money, so I am fortunate in that part of my life at least.

However, that does not help anything when you have strict parents like mine.

I may get spoiled, and have anything my heart could ever desire.

But my parents have a way of what appearance I should emit in public, which is not what is popular in my school.

My parents do not believe in showing skin or dressing to impress anyone.

They say it is just a show.

That is why I do not get noticed at school.

I do not show a sufficient amount of skin; I do not fit in with the popular girls.

My mother is white and my father is black.

I am a mixed teenage girl, which does not help with anything in this day in time, where everyone appears to judge every aspect of life.

My skin favors more of a woman who has spent too much time in the sun, but I am not dark enough to be considered a full African American.

My heart aches for attention the older I get.

I have never had a boyfriend.

Unless you count Louis from Kindergarten that would follow me around, calling me his girlfriend.

I spend most of my time thinking about how different my life would be if I could dress and act the way I want to.

-

Today is Monday, the most dreaded day of every week.

My weekend of reading has come to an end.

I am sitting in the cafeteria of Hayward High School eating my breakfast before the first period begins.

I am wearing a plain pink loose fitted T-Shirt, with dark blue capris and pink Converse's.

My hair is in a French braid, and I managed to sneak out of the house with a bit of makeup on this morning.

My best friend Abigail is sitting next to me - She is pale-white, with red hair that she pulls into a ponytail, with freckles that cover most of her skin.

As I scan the lunchroom, I automatically notice the popular girls - The Queen's - as most would call them.

The leader of the Queen's - Cassandra Chandler - is sitting on the quarterback's lap.

Even her name is more popular than mine.

Today she is wearing a tight pair of cut off shorts that come a few inches below her cheeks - I am sure that they would be shorter if it was not for the dress code at school.

Her shirt is a skin tight V-Cut shirt, that reveals her symmetrical breast and her perfectly shaped cleavage.

Her hair is blonde, like the majority of her clan of Barbie's.

It is straightened as flat as a board, and the crown is teased just enough to waterfall over the back of her head.

The popular girls tend to make fun of me.

The leader is the worst one - no one would ever know that we used to be friends in grade school - I guess that is why she treats me so poorly.

What I would give to live a day in the life of Cassandra Chandler.