princess || jalbert ??

monday makes me sad|| 5.

(alberts pov)

i wake up to the same sound i hear every morning, the blaring sound of my stupid,grey, alarm clock. i roll to my side covering my ear with my pillow. "five more years, please." i mutter quietly to my alarm clock who can here nothing.

finally, after ten whole minutes my mom comes in to tell me to get my ass up and get ready.

i sit up rubbing the eye goop out of my eyes. i rub my fluffy pastel pink blanket muttering "i could lay here all fucking day, but no. i mean i guess i can see him now..."

i walk over to my small closet looking through what i want to wear today.

after, what i would say, fifteen minutes i decide on an oversized band tee, with a few rips, and some black ripped skinny jeans and pink doc martens.

i walk over to my mirror and grab my makeup bag from the bathroom.

i put on some  expensive foundation, mascara, blush, and a small amount of highlighter. i hope he likes it.

i look at myself in my full body mirror, i scan over my whole outfit while fluffing up my luscious,brown, curled locks. i nod at myself indicating my outfit looks good. i walk down stairs to my breakfast bar.

my mom hands me a piece of toast and some butter.

"sorry hun, we have run short on other breakfast items. i nod understanding.

"when you go shopping can we grab poptarts?" i ask with puppy eyes.

"sure thing!" mama replies (yo, author here. check out my roblox account: mamaflimfliam . :P)

i smile waving to my mother as i walk out the door and head off to school.

(jakes (sad) pov)

i wake up to the yelling of my mother and like my 10th step dad. i frown and begin to get teary eyed.
i sigh rolling off my very messy bed onto the floor.

"oof," i say when i hit the floor, not very far down from my bed.

"is your ass up jacob?" my mother calls from down the stairs.

"yes, and don't call me jacob, i go by jake!" i shout back at her.

"i'll call you whatever the fuck i want!" she replies.

i sigh getting up.

i go over to my dirty clothes and pick up a band hoodie and black basket ball shorts. i take a sniff of both. they smell half decent, so what can i complain.

i walk over to my bathroom and spray on some deodorant. i look over the razor on the counter a frown.
you have albert now, dont.

i sigh throwing the, now dry, bloody razor away in my trash can.

i go downstairs to my wobbly table.

"anything for breakfast today?" i ask weakly

"no you fucking faggot, not until you're straight as a dry spaghetti noodle." she hisses at me.