As I wake up, I feel myself overload with commands. The body I inhabit sits up in bed then proceeds to its daily routine from muscle memory. I check the time, though my schedule never changes - 4:09 a.m. on the dot, it reads. I don't feel as if I am a morning person, yet I happen to awaken at this time every day. Pain shoots up from my left leg as I begin to walk, reminding me of the bruise I developed from colliding with the chair yesterday morning. That was when something out of the ordinary occurred. The female who gave birth to me walked downstairs at 5:00 in the morning, though she usually doesn't awaken until 6. She gave me a fright as she kissed my head, hence the collision with the chair. Although, I do not think she noticed as my frights tend to be more contained than that of others.
I feel as if I am oversharing events with myself, but oh well. The sooner time passes, the sooner I complete my routine, which means that I will be able to retire to my more enjoyable activities soon enough. Boring myself is just a part of the process.
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Teen FictionThe story tells the tale of a young girl who has quite the odd perspective on life. She begins to gather that her perspective is a minority and more of an abnormality. Yet she realizes she can only learn to cope with her oddity as its deconstruction...
