CRACK! It was around nine at night. The sound of lightning, blasting its power at strong metallic conductor woke me up. It was thundering with rain pelting and the sound of my phone on playing Tainted Love. I got up and walked into my room, my navy blue walls simmered when the sparks of flashing lightning would strike. Switching my lamp on, I saw a clear view of my messy room. My bed was wrapped around a blanket, clothes, and pillows making the largest heap of ball on the bed. My ivory desk was littered with piles of books and my own little novels I have written. The closet door was opened showing clothes either hanged or distraught on the floor, since of me having a lack of concern to pick it up. I stumbled over to the rummages of clothes, changing into fresh sleeping drapes. I checked the calendar. Oh no, somehow, my life has been overrun with work, watching sassy cats, chirpy birds and excited pups is very hard. Especially having to converse with a lazy turtle all day, and oh maybe, I missed the coming date because... I really didn't care. Attending high school as a sophomore, at my age I would be at junior level. Though, during kindergarten, I switched squares and rectangles, but you can't blame me. They had four sides and all that shape nonsense, and also I hated Mrs. Malarky with vice versa.
Anyways, it starts in a week and a half, and I seemingly have lost all my school supplies. Great, I have to waste my icecream savings on a stupid chiropractor, why do I even need it? It's not like, during a meeting with sales marketer, he would want me to find length of sales. Don't get me started on buying textbooks, like excuse moi, I am more certainly not going to abyss my dollar bills for a wretched bounds of useless information on cheap paper. Textbooks are a discrimination to beautiful written novels. Back to stupid school slaughter, I assigned on Monday, which is in two days from now, I'll go to Wal-Mart. Slumping over to the kitchen, with a sappy mood, but I did not entirely miss summer. Nothing new happened during the humid days, just work, Capulet, sleep, work, read, eat, Netflix, then repeat for the whole heated hours of summer. Opening the fridge, cool frost exposed giving a slight chill, the mini light bulb gave off decent sight for me to manage the labels plastered on my food. Milk...nah...orange juice...nighttime idjit... oooh look a hardened twix bar. I slowly revealed the cocoa drenched bar that underneath masked golden caramel. Thinking about school made me more glum, everyone misunderstood my life. No, I am not completely alone, I have Capulet. Though I felt better when I'm alone, well at least Capulet didn't throw opinions, always annoying, or hated my fandoms. I stared blankly outside and then I turned to hear Capulet scratching his glass. That's the alarm when he's hungry, I'm his personal chef.
After feeding Capulet, a salad of lettuce, tomato, and a pinch of oregano to make it zesty, I laid back on my couch with the tv still casting light as it danced into new scenes of Full House. I checked over the digital clock that popped the numbers of the time saying nine-fifty, first entering my mind was how. Since, it was early nighttime at least at my portrayal of how time ticked away, I thought it was perfect to finish some episodes of The Twilight Zone.
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A/N: yes, hello I am the writer and I barely connect with my readers so here I am!
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