Aaliyah's Point Of View. Monday 16th January 1982.
I wake up to the annoying beep sound escalating from my alarm clock, stretching I reach out for it and smack it a bunch of times in order to stop it from going off. How is it 7:00am already? It felt like I just started snoozing away. But, hey I guess it isn't too bad, at least I get to hang out with my friends all day long. Yeah, I do attend school, but sometimes we like to skip just for the hell of it. I finally decide to get out of bed and head over to the bathroom. After having a shower and brushing my teeth I get dressed into this outfit:
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I slick my hair into a ponytail and apply the make up that I usually wear, well I did a little bit more mascara today and decided to do eye liner, which I usually only wear on special occasions.
I head downstairs to see my mom shuffling around, getting ready for work "Here's a dollar, get yourself something to eat" I nod as she hands the note over to me, which I just push into my jacket pocket "See ya later mom" I state before kissing her cheek and heading for the door. I turn around and close the door whilst digging into my pocket. I grab a dark purple lipstick and a compact mirror. I open the mirror as well as the gloss, which I begin applying on my lip.
"Boo" I hear beside me causing me to jolt making a little bit of matte lip gloss smear, now it looks like a five year attempted to do my make up. I turn beside me to see one of my good friends, Tupac.
"Pac look what you made me do" I whine as I begin to wipe the mistake I made with my index finger, my eyes back on my reflection "My bad and what the fuck you wearing all that make up for anyways?" He questions "Because I want to" "You trinna impress niggas" I scrunch my eyebrows together as I close the mirror "No" I declare as I walk past him and down the flight of stairs, him right behind me.
Cyn's Point Of View.
I look down at my 10 month old son, Roman, who has been screaming the house down since 5am. I left him with my mom so I could get ready for school. Today I decided on getting dressed into this outfit:
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My hair is wrapped up into a bun and I didn't even have time to do my make up just like most mornings. I pick up a stressed out Roman as he is turning bright red. "Sssshh" I hush him swaying back and forth as I feel something warm against my neck. I manage to peel him away from me as I see the contents of undigested formula milk around his mouth, down his top and on my neck. At least he has stopped crying, all that noise for a bit of throw up.
