My Oppa And I.
- LECTURAS 26
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- Partes 1
you were sitting on your couch, a long day from school and your phone was taken away. eating away your life, as always. your mum and dad were out, no surprise. you turn on the tv, slowly falling asleep.. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, "Goddamn, what the hell?!" you wake up in your bed, looking around, "Nine?!" you yell and groan, knowing you've already been late for school several of times. you had to get there by 9/30, or you'd be kicked out.
getting dressed into a cute sailor dress, your hair up in a high ponytail and adding a hint of blush to your face, making you look at least a bit more alive, and using your double eyelid tapes, before walking downstairs and sliding on your dress shoes. taking a juice pouch and a granola bar, before taking you bag in one hand and walking out. slamming the door, and walking to your car, forgetting your key. "Fuck." you set your stuff down, and dig into your dress' pockets, looking for your home key.. "Are you fucking serious?!" you mumble under your breath.
ten minutes to the last bell and you finally get to school. you look bad, but dont mind it at all, youre finishing your granola bar and throwing it away, bumping into a taller, handsome man. he had light pink hair, teeth aligned perfectly. looking up, "Agh, mianhae.." you mumble, helping him with his stuff.
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Something didn't feel right. I looked around my room slowly; cautiously; taking everything in and trying not to feel too nervous. Perhaps Lure was in my room right now, watching me, silently laughing to himself. I didn't doubt it. I slipped off my bed and walked around, hugging my waist, and tilted my head. I felt my rough ponytail slide against the back of my neck and over my shoulder as I moved. "Lure?" I hissed, "Lure, are you there?" I wandered around a little, for some reason feeling scared. But why? It was only Lure. He wouldn't hurt me, would he? "Okay, Lure. Quit it. I know it's you. Who else would it-" I stopped, startled, when I heard a strange sound that made me cringe. It was like fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard. I whipped around and came face-to-face with my mirror. Immediately, I saw the difference. Various scratches were displayed across the glass, forming words. It looked as if claws had written the words in the mirror. "Deepest apologies, but it was fun." (All credit goes to my sister, who wrote this when she was in the twelfth grade)
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