I've been awake for at least 10 minutes now but I keep my eyes closed as if to wish away the start of this day. The start of my senior year of High School. I know I should practically be jumping out of bed just to get there, it's my senior year after all, who wouldn't be excited? Me, I thought. I groan knowing that, eventually, I was going to have to go. I get up, stretching as I do so, and hear my door open.
"About time you decided to get up I was just coming in here to get you." My mom says, leaning against my door frame with her arms crossed over her chest.
I roll my eyes, "Yeah." I murmur and turn to look in the mirror grimacing when I see my reflection.
"Well hurry up or you'll be late." she says sternly.
I see a look of annoyance pass across the face of the girl in front of me.
"I know Mom." I pick up the brush and try to fix the wave of tangles that accumulated overnight.
"You only have 30 minutes to get to"
"DON'T say it," I warn turning to glare at her. She just laughs.
"Ok fine, Rinea, but hurry." When she leaves I shut the door behind her and sigh. I glance at the mirror again and raise a hand to my face, the glass Rinea doing the same. I stretch out my right hand to touch the smooth surface and her left hand seems to connect with mine. I stare at the identical features of our hands. After a few moments I take my hand off the glass and head toward the bathroom to get ready. Though I can't help wishing I was that girl in the mirror. In a world completely opposite of my own, forever trapped behind that glass.
28 minutes later I was dragging my heels to my car.
"Have a good day at"
"School." she finishes completely undisturbed and just as cheerful as before. This day is already starting out terrible...
When I arrive at school I immediately to the class my new schedule has written as my home room and sit down at the desk in the very back in the corner by the window. I always try to get a seat by the window. It makes school at least bearable. Mostly anyway. I stare out at the scene next to me. The late summer trees that seem to already be changing colors and the extremely green, newly cut grass. Kids were starting to arrive, some came in, others stayed out conversing with one another.
I close my eyes and imagine that I'm under those trees, laying in the green grass, the sun warming every ounce of exposed skin and I smile a tiny smile. Just then I got the feeling of being watched. The hair on the back of my neck started to rise and I got anxious because I absolutely hate being stared at. Tentatively, I look over and see that it's a boy about my age or older with the blackest hair I've ever seen and ice blue eyes that cut through me right to my soul and I feel a shiver go up my back. Who is he...