Being Shot

P h o t o #19 - Change

P h o t o #19 - Change

It would have been great to just sleep the day away. It would have been wonderful to forget about reality and slip into the vast land of my dreams. Like I said, it would have been nice. But nice things seem to avoid me like the plague, so my nap ended in a nightmare an hour later. Literally.

After jolting awake, I immediately forgot what I was so afraid of. I clutched my shirt, feeling cold sweat drenching my body. I quickly leaned over to my window, hoping the chilling autumn air will cool me off, only to come face to face with a storm brewing in the sky above.

That's not the only thing staring back at me. The reflection of my glasses-less face in the window surprised me. I had slept in my contacts! Twice!

I shook my head, not remembering when I had become so irresponsible, plucked my glasses off of my night stand where I left them and made my way out the door of my room.

Once I stepped into the small upstairs bathroom, I locked the door behind me, not wanting my grandmother to see me like this. I glanced up at the mirror, a zombie-looking girl with bloodshot eyes and runny mascara staring lifelessly at me. I was comforted by the fact that my mascara didn't run after my mental breakdown last night, only after sleeping with it on did it cause it to look like this. I would have probably scared my grandmother half to death this morning looking like I did now. Over the night it must have lost it's "non-running" effect.

I groaned. 'Now I remember why I don't wear make-up.' I thought bitterly as I grabbed a clean beige towel from below the sink and swiping some contact solution out from behind the mirror.

After struggling and poking myself in the eye multiple times, my contacts finally made their way out of my eyes, leaving them even puffier. I groaned yet again. I was already unhappy with my appearance, I didn't need to make it any worse.

Once my contacts were secured in there specific container, I moved on to my black stained cheeks.

As expected of expensive mascara, it didn't budge with just a damp towel. Letting out something between a grimace of pain and a groan of agony, I fished out some Dove soap and lathered it onto my face, hoping it would dull down the make-up's grip.

I sighed with relief after toweling my face off, the mascara had been completely removed! Success!

I gave myself a mental pat on the back for not taking a crap-ton of time to figure out how to do something this simple. I usually over analyzed things like this, especially since I've never tried to remove make-up from my face. I guess I was just used to quick thinking ever since I began hanging out with the group I did now.

After cleaning up the mess I had made, I stopped just before leaving the bathroom. Stepping back in front of the mirror, I took notice of my waves of black hair. I hadn't realized it had grown so much over the past few months, it was now almost past my breasts in length. I sighed at the sight, I really needed a haircut soon.

I made my way back to my bedroom, immediately walking towards the Trig book I left out on my desk, opened to the exact page I needed for studying. I felt my eyes dull at the thought of studying, but I didn't want my grades to suffer just because I was mentally unstable. Plus, I needed a distraction from my thoughts.

So, I did what I felt like I had to do. I sat down and studied until my eyes went sore.

***

I needlessly spent another two minutes adjusting my hair in the messy bun I had learned how to do from a DIY YouTube video I had watched the night before. Monday mornings definitely were the worst. I just coudn't get the look right, and something in the back of my head was telling me it was just because I sucked at doing my hair, not the morning tiredness that was messing me up.