The Heart Does Go On

I wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror, which had appeared after a shower I had just had. I stared at my reflection. I was feeling more self conscious than a teenage girl usually would, and that’s saying something. I was picking out my flaws and how I could correct them as I was combing my hair. My eyes still had dark circles from the sleepless nights I used to have. That was months ago, and I got at least 8 hours every night! I had a small breakout on my chin as well, which was quite unusual, as I didn’t really suffer from breakouts.

This was undesirable to have for my first day of school. Sure, it was tomorrow, but these problems don’t magically go away overnight (trust me, sleep won’t get rid of these dark circles, they aren’t too terrible but people do comment)

My father decided he wanted to do some more travelling before he retires. So my father and I ended up in Domino, Japan. Thousands of miles away from our home of L.A. in America. Domino was apparently ‘Little America’ of Japan, sort of like how Montreal is 'Little France' in Canada. People spoke English, people looked western, and if you wanted to live in Japan without the huge cultural difference, Domino is where you would go. I left behind my mother, but no real loss there.

My father managed to get a job at Kaiba Corp, run by the famous (or infamous as some would call him) Seto Kaiba. My father was quite honoured, he admired Seto Kaiba for running such a large company and being so young, my father was set in charge of people at a young age, on a much smaller scale of course, but it still reminded him of himself, and the responsibilities he had. I, on the other hand, didn’t really care about Seto Kaiba. I had my eyes set on the business career (future accountant here) but I had my eyes set on banks rather than Kaiba corp., banks are financial institutions, not some stupid duel monsters company. They’d make a lot more net profit, right?

After combing and drying my hair, I decided to straighten it. My self-consciousness led me to believe that if I looked prettier, people would more likely want to be my friend. However studies in psychology also prove that people are more likely to be warmer to attractive people, so as vain and horrible as that sounded I wanted to be pretty.

I set my alarm and crawled into bed after fixing my hair, and surprisingly I fell asleep easily, ready for what was ahead of me the next day.