The impact on the broken

chapter 1: First impressions count

Beep

Beep

Beep

I grumble turning on my side and bashing my fist on my alarm clock. Soon the sound dies down and I'm pretty sure I've broken it. My strength is undescribable as my sister and mom like to say. But that's what happens when you have anger issues and take them to the gym day after day.

My family is completely and totally skrewed up. My mom and dad are constantly fighting starting from when I leave to school, to when I'm coming back. Even over the phone I can hear the hate clear in their voices. There used to be a time when they actually tried to hide it from me and Rain for our sake. But I'm pretty sure they don't care anymore.

I get up slowly as the massive headache I've been praying to not have has arrived. It feels like a hurricane mixed with a tornado just spinning in my head. I feel slightly dizzy and nauseous. I feel the bile rising in my throat and make a bee-line for the bathroom. I bend over the toilet seat and throw up all of yesterday's contents.

I come back up and rest my head on the aside of the wall and just breath. grunting I getting up slowly, and go over to the sink reaching into the cabinet and pulling out two aspirins and swallowing them. I grab my towels from the cabinet behind me and get in the shower.

I close my eyes and turn around letting the water run down my back and to the floor. After I'm done I slowly Get out and dry off wrapping the towel around me. I put my favorite lotion on. Mmm, it smell so good, my favorite vanilla and coconut. By the time I'm done I feel my headache, (more like migraine) slightly backing off. After I'm done brushing my teeth I walk out to get dressed.

I put on a lacy push up and matching boy shorts. Slowly walking over to my huge closet I grab some light blue shredded high waisted shorts with spikes on all of the pockets. I personally made those. A lot of my clothes I've customized to fit my style. I grab a super tight grey spaghetti T-shirt and my leather jacket. pulling my mid high combat boots on I go over to my dresser to do my hair.

Rubbing the gel together in my hands I pull my over butt length jet black hair into a super high ponytail. I brush out the ponytail to make it appear thicker. I color my lips with cherry red lipstick adding a clear over it to giver it more shine. I finish off the look with winged eyeliner on top and silver eyeliner on the bottom to help my scary blue eyes pop out.

Going downstairs I already hear the bickering ready to turn into something much worse. when I walk into the room and they all turn their heads towards me and I just keep walking as if I don't feel their stares. I grab my daily snacks to eat throughout the day. A granola bar, an apple, and my watermelon Snapple.

Turning to walk out the door I hear my name being called "Misty! Come back here right now!"

I huff out loud and stomp my way back to the table "What!?" I yell Snapping at my mom. "Don't forget who your talking to young lady! Now, where do you think your going like that?" I look down and roll my eyes at her. " Obviously school."

I draw out dramatically. Her eyes turn a dark brown almost black, from their usually light hazel ones. I know I've done it now and quickly rush out the door in a panic and hop in my red Ferrari. I yell at my sister to catch the bus and speed away.

When I come to a red light I pick up my Snapple taking a sip and putting it back in the cup holder. When I finally pull up to the school I can already feel the many curious eyes on me and quickly pep talk myself. "okay, Misty just don't let anyone close and you will be fine." Grabbing my bag I get out of my car with my head held high and shoulders back and walk with so much grace I feel like a bird in flight.

When I was a little child around 7 my parents signed me up for modeling classes and I can at least say they paid off. Yea, I might be a problem child but that doesn't mean I cant do my business with grace. As I'm walking towards the building I hear wolf whistles and things like 'Damn girl' or ' Bruh imma hit that'.