FLOWERS' EMBRACE : south park stendy angst

CHAPTER I : MORNING ROUTINE

Wendy arose from her bed, curling her fingers to rub her tired eyes as her drowsiness slowly shifted away. School; oh yes, school. It'd likely be like any other, average day; nothing usually happened anymore. Nothing was surprising at this point; after living in South Park for sixteen years, you grow accustomed to the shit that goes down, she guessed. Or maybe, she was truly alone with that standpoint- it wouldn't be a foreign topic, being alone on things- at least not for Wendy.

Wendy swung her legs over the side of the bed, outstretching her arms far above her head and letting out a monstrous yawn. She began cracking each individual finger in her hands as she slowly felt her drifting mind settle, like an had been thrown out to the sea that she called her head, her mind the rocking, yet newly steady boat.

Wendy licked her dry lips and hopped out of bed, her eyes fluttering delicately as her pupils glided across the room, taking in the sights that they consumed nearly daily. The now empty, waterless fish bowl on her polished wooden nightstand; the flower rug sprawled out across the hardwood floors, and the pink, orange, and yellow flower decals lining the walls. Everything was sickingingly normal- average, a bit too average. Wendy's eyes thinned, though she shrugged her gut instinct off as simply morning paranoia. The school day would distract her from it all, right?

Wendy stood, finishing up picking out an outfit and getting dressed. She adorned a white t-shirt with a light pink jacket layered overtop, with light blue ripped jeans-- perfect. She dabbed some makeup on and smiled at the mirror, a girl with a pitiful expression on her face reflecting back. Disgusting. Foul. These negative thoughts lingered and overwhelmed her brain; no matter how hard Wendy attempted to stop it, block these words from her memory, it seemed virtually impossible. They always came back- each time more hurtful, each time hitting closer to home.

Wendy grabbed her glasses from the stand before the mirror, placing them onto her face and adjusting them to stay on her nosebridge. She brushed gently through her silky black hair, debating if she should cut it again soon. Though, her thoughts were striked with interruption as her gaze gradually rose to the clock; shit, she was almost late. Throwing the necessary supplies into her bookbag, she set off for school.