𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 | billie eilish

009

thursday - october 29, 2020

𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐨'𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥
𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑, 𝟓:𝟓𝟓𝐚𝐦
𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬

A shrill tone that periodically rings in a two second interval rips me abruptly from my deep sleep.

I force my eyelids to open sluggishly, and it takes a while until I am entirely aware of my environment, myself and what exact day of the week it is today.

"Jesus," I groan as my alarm doesn't seem to come to an end soon, so I prop myself up on my elbows in order to grab my phone and ultimately shut the annoying ringing up.

"Shit," I add and run my palms over my drowsy face before adjusting to the partly brightness from the outer world in my room.

So it's real, huh? My first day as an official student – a sophomore, to be exact – at a high school in Los Angeles? Apparently it is, and I can't quite come to terms with that yet. But not in a negative way, not at all. I'm looking at it from the perspective of realizing that my nine years of being homeschooled are over, and now I'm anticipating my new daily routine. I don't doubt the stress that will come with it, however, I want to stay on the bright side of things for once and not begin spreading bad vibes again before I successfully finished today's journey.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and for a moment I am lost in the shapes and the colorful spectacles that are swimming in front of my eyes for about three seconds straight.

God, I wanna lie back down, pull my comfortable blanket over my body and fall asleep for another three hours. The problem is that I absolutely can't, because I don't want to risk being late on my very first day. It wouldn't have a good impression on the teacher who leads first period today, my mom told me, and for once I don't have to fight that logical argument.

My schedule predicts that chemistry is going to be my first lesson of the day. I wouldn't say that I'm particularly interested in it but I won't turn my back to it either. My speciality isn't remembering names, hence I'm unable to recall my teacher's last name at the moment. As soon as I have a look at my schedule, I'll inform you about it.

I run my palms over my face another time, push a few single strands of my cerulean hair behind my ear and then throw my warm blanket aside. A shiver immediately crawls down my spine as I am exposed to the coldness outside my bed.

Nonetheless, I force myself to a get up on my feet and begin the day by grabbing the outfit I selected yesterday. Frankly, I had trouble searching for the correct pair of pants but it eventually resulted in the same plain white pants that I wore a couple of days ago. I usually don't fret other people's opinions on my clothing combination, but last night drifted away from normality and fearful thoughts succeeded on filling every corner of my head, thus I spent countless minutes thinking about exchanging my clothes one more time. But I didn't, I remained loyal to my primal selection.

I lumber to my closet while stretching my arms until they're shaking microscopically and yawn simultaneously.

A soft curse word slips from my lips due to the excruciating pain that cuts through my foot after I accidentally hit my toe on the corner of my commode, but I shrug it off instantaneously.

I quickly grab the pair of pants from a shelf and rip a black blouse with a flame print from its hanger. In addition, I choose a nude set of underwear and snow white Nike socks.

Clenching my clothes between my arm and the side of my chest, I turn the knob of my door around and shuffle out if it.

The hallway is jet black, I can't spot a thing in the dark, therefore I quickly roam the wall for the light switch and eventually push it down to enlighten the previously unlit space.