Red Eyes and Roses

Chapter 1

The reality around us is different then the reality through the night. Through the night, we dream of boys with red eyes who know the details of our lives. Around us, we know these people do not exist. We know these people can only exist in our dreams. A dream we must wake up from.

"Annabella Noelle! Get up this instant!" A strong voice fully interrupts my dream state. I force my less-than-awake-self into the cold air of the real world. The real world is where my mother is attempting to wake me up for the first day of senior year. That boy's voice echoes through my head, reminding me of how he knew way too much about me. Considering I'm not popular, he shouldn't know me at all. He shouldn't know my mother's voice or my education status. The devil on my left reminds me that he did know both of those things. I can feel the anxiety start to climb. He knew too much about me without me knowing him. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? My heart starts to beat like a bat out of hell.

"Annabella!" My mom's voice comes barreling in through the open door to my bedroom. Shaking my head from the thoughts, I push my bleach-blonde hair behind my ears. I take a deep breathe and look around the room. The marble sheets, book posters on the walls, and small decorations filling my room bring me comfort. Reaching to the right, I grasp the picture frame on my nightstand in shaking hands. Staring up at me is my family. It's always been the three of us. Me, my mom, and my baby sister. I allow the smiles on our faces to calm me down enough to take a deep breath. We're all together and nothing can hurt us.

I laugh in amusement as my mom comes storming into my room only to find me awake in my bed. She growls at me playfully before pointing to my closet in an attempt to tell me to start getting ready. All I do is smile and nod since I'm way too tired to talk yet. As soon as she leaves, I look back at the picture in my hands. 'We got this,' I remind myself one last time before placing it back on my empty table.

A yawn escapes me as I arch my back. My morning routine consists of me stretching my body for about five minutes before I even think about getting up out of bed. Twisting, turning, and cracking my entire body, I allow myself a few more moments to wake up before facing the day ahead.

The mess coating the floor around me is nothing compared to the mess spilling out of my closet. From the instant I open it, clothes fall all over the place, only managing to make the mess so much worse. Laughter pours out of me and doesn't stop. It doesn't stop as I pick out multiple outfit choices. It doesn't stop as I try on each outfit and deny them all. It doesn't stop even after I pick out one last outfit. It does stop, however, when I see myself in the mirror. I actually look good.

Throughout all my years, I've never been pretty, I've never been popular. I'm always the quiet, bookworm who sits in the back of her classes. I have few friends, but those I talk to are all I speak to. Over sized hoodies and leggings always cover my body in a way to give it no shape. My blonde hair goes in a bun and I let thick framed glasses cover my icy eyes. No makeup, no effort, no fancy clothes. I would rather be plain and unnoticed than seen and watched. Except this year. I've been told a million times that it's my last year here and that I should change, that I should let people see me. Despite my lack of confidence and willingness, I agree. I agree to redoing my wardrobe, I agree to redoing my bedroom. I agree to redoing me. Now, all the hard work is being shown and is staring back at me in the mirror. Long, toned legs are encased in ripped skinny jeans. Peaking through the tears, a pair of fishnet stockings greet my eyes. The light colored pants stand out against my tanned stomach, flat from years of dance and intense workouts, which is showing due to the black crop top covering my chest. The long sleeves hug my arms, a dark color covers my upper-half, and ribbon wraps its way around my middle. A pair of black heels cover my feet in a way that makes me feel like Cinderella. I raise my head so I meet my own eyes, a tear falling loose. I actually look good.