My Story Drafts/Fails

Underworld Office Fanfic Part 1

(The chapters are short, read description if you haven't already! And there are no ships in the story, everything is platonic.)

I look at myself through a mirror. A white, small rimmed mirror to be exact. I stared at it, and let my eyes set on the different corners of the mirror. The action making me feel disappointed already, wishing I had decorated the mirror or haven't gotten one at all in the first place.

I keep looking at the mirror's edges and once I finished, I knew I would have to look at my distasteful self. I stared for a moment. I saw the bags under my eyes, surprised that they weren't darker. Due to my lack of sleep of course. And the more I stared at myself the more hatred and pity and disgust I felt at my reflection.

Who would dare stare at the thing I'm seeing right now for more than a millisecond? I almost started to cry, knowing I will always look such hideous.

I whispered a small phrase to myself, "What am I?" With the thoughts wondering if I am really just a human with red blood or a monster that everyone hates.

Oddly enough I hear a phrase reply back to me. The voice was so delicate and soft, definitely better sounding than my own. But it felt as though I was the one saying this phrase. And yet my lips didn't move. "Why do you live?"

-

I wake up, the sun shining through my window. And I'm not standing infront of the mirror anymore, instead laying in the closest thing to comfort. I took a few rapid breaths, slowing down and calming my own self down in just a few moments. And I remembered that was just a dream. Same one as the day before, and the day before that, and so on.

"This dream again." I whispered in the same tone that I had in the dream. Knowing no one would hear me and no one would even want to hear me if they did.

I sat up from my bed and changed into my maroon (red-dark pink ish) hoodie that I favor over all the others. I wipe my glasses and slip them on, my eyes immediatly adjusting per usual and allowing me to see just like normal people do.

Not wanting anyone to see a mess of hair I have, I tighten the hoodie. I would hate it if people stared at me, and if it was because of something like bed head I would feel even worse. Making me wish I had a better life.

I head out of my bedroom and head to the kitchen. The kitchen looks like people envision kitchens to normally be like. I grab a pop tart from the cabinet and head out of the house, grabbing my bag on the way out.

But as I left the house I wondered if father had already left for work or not. I probably wouldn't know because of how little we see each other. Nevertheless talk.

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