Her eyelashes slowly flutter open as her eyes are exposed to the florescent light in her room yet another morning. She lies down in her fortress of sheets, just to soak in the security of it all for just a couple more sweet seconds, but she knows she shouldn't waste time, and sighs as her feet thud to the thick carpeted floor.
She slugs towards her closet and thrusts the two white doors open, revealing her clothing options. She kicks the bucket of dirty clothing below, reminding herself she needs to get those cleaned after school. She settle on whatever she happened to grab first, after all, who is she trying to impress? Surely not those shallow, egotistic, monsters she is forced to wander the halls with. She finishes any getting ready she needs to do and slowly heads to the door.
Her small, delicate, hands grasps the silver handle, and she almost hesitates to open it, just to go back upstairs into her room, which reeks of emptiness, and to once again submerge herself in the covers, to forget, but she knows that it's not that simple.
She sits silent at her bus stop, the only sound she makes is the occasional foot tap to the rhythm of whatever happens to be blasting in her eardrums at the time. She hears the screeching sound of the bus approaching, and readies her binder in her hands, taking deep breathes as to prepare herself for not just the sweaty-sweet stench of the bus, but what she knows lies beyond it.
She goes through the school day, tired and weary, modeling her fake smiles for all to see. She does not need to pretend for her best friend though, not because she is trusted, but because her "friend" wouldn't care anyway, she's to busy swimming in a pool of our main characters tears, laughing. Whether this sadness is out of tiredness, or loneliness, it's killing her inside, and beginning to come out.
"How do YOU know about her then, if she's so secretive?" You may ask, well, it's simple. I am her.