Status: active-!
Afraid to Fall
chapter 1
Have you ever had love at first sight? Have you ever met someone in the awkwardest way, and instantly been smitten? Have you ever consistantly made a fool out of yourself around the same person? Have you ever talked too much as your heart is pounding and your cheeks are blossoming deeper shades of red by the second? I have. All at one time, too.
Kicking sand off of my black suede pumps, I, Brighton Louisa Townson, crashed in the front door of my house, which is convientently located on the shores of North Carolina, causing the door to slam against the wall and my dog to jump up with a start and bark, running in circles around me. Too tired to bend down to pet her, I just stepped forward and dropped my books on the front hall table and found my way to my room, colliding with a few doors and railings along the way. Blinking my eyes, I clobbered down the hall to my bedroom, shut the door, crossed the room, and laid on my bed, too tired to even take off the 4 inch heels I had been strutting in all day. I just laid there. And the sad thing was, this had been my routine for the past three days. It was all I wanted to do. I felt like I was in the off posiition for most of the day, like my brain was a radio recieving school information and my body was just a zombie, retaining and copying according to the signals it told me. My phone laid next to me, untexted, just flashing my Justin Bieber screensaver. I know, I'm sixteen, I should really get rid of that but...come on. He's adorable.
After about ten minutes of half-sleep, I finally got up and brought my shoes over to my closet, throwing them in with the hundreds of other pairs I had. Blue, grey, purple, magenta, rose red, orangey-orange (as the Trix Rabbit would say) and every hue in between. I smiled slightly, taking in my collection. So, I had a shoe and Justin Bieber fetish. It was one of the things that made me who I was. Still blinking a little and trying to wake myself up, I crossed to my mirror. Full length, three sided, and taking up half my closet, this mirror was pretty helpful. I assessed my black military bomber jacket, pink lace tank top, and high waisted black skirt...cute, I decided. My hair was...okay, as usual. I've learned not to expect too much from hair that changes direction on a day-to-day basis. My eyes had decided to be grey today, I guess they were matching my mood. But that's fine, usually they only shone when I was wearing shades of blue, green, or white. I had learned that.
Looking to the right, I saw the portion of my mirror dedicated to my best friend in the whole wide world, Chelsea 'Stells' Lockhart. Popular, gorgeous, and original, this girl had it all. And she was mine! Yeah, on the surface she may look pulled together and perfect, but you get to know her and you'll learn a.) never to speak unless spoken to between the hours of 6 and 7 am(the same rule applies to one hour after whatever time she wakes up), b.) she can make some weird faces and still pull them off, and c.) she has adorable taste in music and never, ever, ever, commit violation number one of the CS Lockheart code...steal her music. It was the worst. Just, don't do it. Studied my mirror, I recognized her swirly handwriting spelling out "LOVE IS REAL" all over in red lipstick, kiss marks, "BRI LOVES CHELS" in huge all caps letters, and a few photos of us from our last trip to the fair.
We had found this obscure photobooth in the middle of nowhere and gone crazy, spending twenty dollars on just us being silly and making the strangest faces we possibly could. We probably could have stayed longer, but a group of teenage boys came and started laughing at as as we posed for the shot...yeah, we sprinted out of there pretty fast. I laughed just thinking about it, and as my dimples found their spot on my face I finally felt awake for the first time that day. School really put me in such a focused haze, it took a while to reconnect with my internal server, aka my heart and my personality, after it ended each day.
I turned and headed out of my closet and was momentarily blinded by the sun's rays reflecting off the water outside my window. Lots of water. So much water, in fact, that they call it the Atlantic Ocean. It glistened and shone in the late fall sunlight and looked appealing, but I knew stepping in there meant hypothermia, so I steered clear. It was beautiful to look at though, and usually once a week I would have Chelsea over and we'd have a bonfire and listen to her ipod blasting through the outdoor speakers, making s'mores with burnt, fiery marshmallows and snuggling up in huge blankets, laughing about stupid stuff that wouldn't seem funny the next day.
Smiling, I grabbed my coziest sweatshirt and fuzziest sweatpants and threw them on, making funny faces for no reason and somewhat dancing...if you could call it that. It was more like spastic jerking. After a minute or so of this, I was fully me. My brown hair whipped around my face and my eyes glistened with pure happiness. See, I wasn't into drama. I'm the type to let things go, not overthink it, and just have fun as much as possible. I let things like...well, pesky high school things, slide off my shoulders, things that might normally bother some of the not so mature juniors at my school, but not me most of the time.
Giggling and laughing about one of my more recent moves, I plopped onto my computer and spun around in my purple chair, watching my room become a tye-dye illusion of purple, white, and gold. Suddenly, my mind turned to something else. Something that made my nose crinkle, my toes wiggle, my mind dizzy, and my body weak. Yeah, I think you know what I'm talking about. A boy.
Kicking sand off of my black suede pumps, I, Brighton Louisa Townson, crashed in the front door of my house, which is convientently located on the shores of North Carolina, causing the door to slam against the wall and my dog to jump up with a start and bark, running in circles around me. Too tired to bend down to pet her, I just stepped forward and dropped my books on the front hall table and found my way to my room, colliding with a few doors and railings along the way. Blinking my eyes, I clobbered down the hall to my bedroom, shut the door, crossed the room, and laid on my bed, too tired to even take off the 4 inch heels I had been strutting in all day. I just laid there. And the sad thing was, this had been my routine for the past three days. It was all I wanted to do. I felt like I was in the off posiition for most of the day, like my brain was a radio recieving school information and my body was just a zombie, retaining and copying according to the signals it told me. My phone laid next to me, untexted, just flashing my Justin Bieber screensaver. I know, I'm sixteen, I should really get rid of that but...come on. He's adorable.
After about ten minutes of half-sleep, I finally got up and brought my shoes over to my closet, throwing them in with the hundreds of other pairs I had. Blue, grey, purple, magenta, rose red, orangey-orange (as the Trix Rabbit would say) and every hue in between. I smiled slightly, taking in my collection. So, I had a shoe and Justin Bieber fetish. It was one of the things that made me who I was. Still blinking a little and trying to wake myself up, I crossed to my mirror. Full length, three sided, and taking up half my closet, this mirror was pretty helpful. I assessed my black military bomber jacket, pink lace tank top, and high waisted black skirt...cute, I decided. My hair was...okay, as usual. I've learned not to expect too much from hair that changes direction on a day-to-day basis. My eyes had decided to be grey today, I guess they were matching my mood. But that's fine, usually they only shone when I was wearing shades of blue, green, or white. I had learned that.
Looking to the right, I saw the portion of my mirror dedicated to my best friend in the whole wide world, Chelsea 'Stells' Lockhart. Popular, gorgeous, and original, this girl had it all. And she was mine! Yeah, on the surface she may look pulled together and perfect, but you get to know her and you'll learn a.) never to speak unless spoken to between the hours of 6 and 7 am(the same rule applies to one hour after whatever time she wakes up), b.) she can make some weird faces and still pull them off, and c.) she has adorable taste in music and never, ever, ever, commit violation number one of the CS Lockheart code...steal her music. It was the worst. Just, don't do it. Studied my mirror, I recognized her swirly handwriting spelling out "LOVE IS REAL" all over in red lipstick, kiss marks, "BRI LOVES CHELS" in huge all caps letters, and a few photos of us from our last trip to the fair.
We had found this obscure photobooth in the middle of nowhere and gone crazy, spending twenty dollars on just us being silly and making the strangest faces we possibly could. We probably could have stayed longer, but a group of teenage boys came and started laughing at as as we posed for the shot...yeah, we sprinted out of there pretty fast. I laughed just thinking about it, and as my dimples found their spot on my face I finally felt awake for the first time that day. School really put me in such a focused haze, it took a while to reconnect with my internal server, aka my heart and my personality, after it ended each day.
I turned and headed out of my closet and was momentarily blinded by the sun's rays reflecting off the water outside my window. Lots of water. So much water, in fact, that they call it the Atlantic Ocean. It glistened and shone in the late fall sunlight and looked appealing, but I knew stepping in there meant hypothermia, so I steered clear. It was beautiful to look at though, and usually once a week I would have Chelsea over and we'd have a bonfire and listen to her ipod blasting through the outdoor speakers, making s'mores with burnt, fiery marshmallows and snuggling up in huge blankets, laughing about stupid stuff that wouldn't seem funny the next day.
Smiling, I grabbed my coziest sweatshirt and fuzziest sweatpants and threw them on, making funny faces for no reason and somewhat dancing...if you could call it that. It was more like spastic jerking. After a minute or so of this, I was fully me. My brown hair whipped around my face and my eyes glistened with pure happiness. See, I wasn't into drama. I'm the type to let things go, not overthink it, and just have fun as much as possible. I let things like...well, pesky high school things, slide off my shoulders, things that might normally bother some of the not so mature juniors at my school, but not me most of the time.
Giggling and laughing about one of my more recent moves, I plopped onto my computer and spun around in my purple chair, watching my room become a tye-dye illusion of purple, white, and gold. Suddenly, my mind turned to something else. Something that made my nose crinkle, my toes wiggle, my mind dizzy, and my body weak. Yeah, I think you know what I'm talking about. A boy.
♠ ♠ ♠
commmmmments please! xxo