If Wishes Were Horses

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE (unedited)

--- Kindly put your playlist here ---

"Spent half of my life being sad
About shits I had no control over
Going through the day was exhausting
One day I woke up and decided
I deserved the best in life
And no one was going to get in my way."

-Khalid

PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! DO NOT SKIP THE FIRST THREE PAGES ABOVE! GRACIAS!

Song:
Goodbyes by Post Malone

                         * * * *

ANNIE

The sound of my phone buzzing on the table finally wake me up. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try to get my contacts to focus. I shouldn't really sleep with them on, but I do that anyways. I got back from the airport pretty late and preoccupied last night to even care. Moreover, I hate myself in glasses now. I look around me and surprisingly everything looks different from how I had left it months ago. I have a new blanket over me and my entire room is cleaned up already. I am not exactly a messy type but I was a MESS at that time...

No, no, no. It's damn too early in the morning for some memory down the lane!

Laying on the soft satin sheets, I scoot to the edge of the bed. I grab my phone and swipe my finger across the screen to be greeted with 26 missed calls and 3 text messages.

All. From. Nicollette.

*Pick up your phone, Annie!!!*

*Don't say anything stupid to mom.*

*Call me, please.*

"You've got to be kidding me." I scoff. Just who the hell does she actually think she is, blowing up my phone? It is freaking 7:36AM here in Toronto. Scotland is 5 hours ahead! I will gladly serve my time in jail when I kill her. I drop my phone and pull myself away from bed.

"It's too early for this rubbish." I mutter, pulling my curly-strawberry blonde hair into a signature messy bun. I am wearing a small tank top and undies. Sluggishly walking to the bathroom to take a piss. "Urrh," I sigh in relief and a tear roll down my left cheek as I did my business. I am weird —I know, everything about me is W.E.I.R.D.

Lol whatever.

It's a syndrome called OCULURIA or

POST-MICTURITION CONVULSIVE SYNDROME.

I brush my teeth, splash cold water on my face and survey my reflection in the mirror. Now that's something I avoided doing in a long while, and I half expected to see what I am seeing right now. "Arrgh!!!!" I pout angrily. It's one thing to lavish your savings but entirely a different story to bring back home the receipt.

This is my receipt of how I spent my savings in Scotland.

Binge eating Oreos.

And maybe a few shopping.

Few shoppings never hurts no one.

"Oh no, I don't want to be fat!" Don't get me wrong, I admire plus size models or girls who really needed to add a couple of pounds probably because they underweight.

But I don't see myself being half pretty as them right now.

"What are the people at school going to say about me?" I sigh. "I was supposed to come back feeling Gucci but here, I look like two freaking sacks of potatoes with gigantic sour mood." I smile at my choice of words. Okay. Now that's me being extra. "Annie, you just have to subtract all these extra pounds. YOU'LL use the school gym, run tracks, do whatever YOU can so YOU don't be a laughing stock in the whole of Canada." I say, pointing to myself in the mirror.