Every Breath You Take
Kangaroo?
“BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!!!”
“Noo-oo-ooo.” I groan, but the beeping doesn’t stop.
So I am forced to get out of my fluffy warm bed, drag my sorry ass across the room and turn the damn thing off. I start to shiver in my baby blue boxers, yes I know its August but having an air conditioner in your room sucks, or blows I don’t really know what it does to be honest.
I stumbled over towards my drawers, yanking them open and start digging through the mounds of clothes they contain. After all my clothes are thrown all over my room, I eventually decide on my best pair of ass hugging jeans and a tight red shirt with the black flag logo on the front. Perfect. I saunter over to my mirror, turn on my hair straightener and looked at my naked face. Ick. I pick up the hair band my sister let me ‘borrow’, pushed back all my hair and started to giggle at myself. I am most defiantly gay. I grabbed my make up bag and started my daily routine.
Concealer. Foundation. Power. Eyeshadow (red to match my shirt of course). Mascara. Eyelash curlers. Finally eyeliner.
I tugged off the hair band and started to tame my bed head. It didn’t take long to fix, only 10 minutes. I flattened it over my right eye and as always the bottom curled inwards, damn. I took a step back from my mirror and scanned myself, something was missing. I pondered for a moment and then realized I wasn’t wearing a belt. I grabbed a white studded belt from my belt rack, (yes I have a belt rack, I own 12 belts.) And slipped it through the belt loops in my jeans. I stepped back from the mirror once more but there was still something missing.
“AH-HA!” I squealed.
Lipgloss. I picked up my clear strawberry gloss, ran it over my lips and smile at myself. As always this was as good as it was gonna get. I picked up my battered black converse and tried to put them on, while standing up, which was a bad idea for someone who is vertically challenged like me. I started hopping up and down like a retarded kangaroo with one lousy leg, bumping into walls, my door and my bookcase, sending all sorts of things flying across the room onto the floor. Until I too fell on the floor, face first of course. As I was lying on the floor I realized I had been trying to put my shoes on the wrong feet and I also realized that it would’ve been easier to sit on my bed and then out in my shoes. I glanced at my clock and panicked, I was already running late, I quickly pulled on my shoes, grabbed my bag, yelled bye to my parents and started running down the street towards the school.
“Noo-oo-ooo.” I groan, but the beeping doesn’t stop.
So I am forced to get out of my fluffy warm bed, drag my sorry ass across the room and turn the damn thing off. I start to shiver in my baby blue boxers, yes I know its August but having an air conditioner in your room sucks, or blows I don’t really know what it does to be honest.
I stumbled over towards my drawers, yanking them open and start digging through the mounds of clothes they contain. After all my clothes are thrown all over my room, I eventually decide on my best pair of ass hugging jeans and a tight red shirt with the black flag logo on the front. Perfect. I saunter over to my mirror, turn on my hair straightener and looked at my naked face. Ick. I pick up the hair band my sister let me ‘borrow’, pushed back all my hair and started to giggle at myself. I am most defiantly gay. I grabbed my make up bag and started my daily routine.
Concealer. Foundation. Power. Eyeshadow (red to match my shirt of course). Mascara. Eyelash curlers. Finally eyeliner.
I tugged off the hair band and started to tame my bed head. It didn’t take long to fix, only 10 minutes. I flattened it over my right eye and as always the bottom curled inwards, damn. I took a step back from my mirror and scanned myself, something was missing. I pondered for a moment and then realized I wasn’t wearing a belt. I grabbed a white studded belt from my belt rack, (yes I have a belt rack, I own 12 belts.) And slipped it through the belt loops in my jeans. I stepped back from the mirror once more but there was still something missing.
“AH-HA!” I squealed.
Lipgloss. I picked up my clear strawberry gloss, ran it over my lips and smile at myself. As always this was as good as it was gonna get. I picked up my battered black converse and tried to put them on, while standing up, which was a bad idea for someone who is vertically challenged like me. I started hopping up and down like a retarded kangaroo with one lousy leg, bumping into walls, my door and my bookcase, sending all sorts of things flying across the room onto the floor. Until I too fell on the floor, face first of course. As I was lying on the floor I realized I had been trying to put my shoes on the wrong feet and I also realized that it would’ve been easier to sit on my bed and then out in my shoes. I glanced at my clock and panicked, I was already running late, I quickly pulled on my shoes, grabbed my bag, yelled bye to my parents and started running down the street towards the school.
♠ ♠ ♠
Sorry these first chapters are lame but I need to cut past the boring stuff.....Thank you for reading and giving my story a chance.
Cara Margaret
xoxo