Lonely Girl

Summer lazily rolled out of bed and plopped down on her knees in front of her bed, and shook through her covers for her phone. She shook the comforter hard and the phone went flying through the air and smacked against the wall. Crawling over to the phone, she felt a serious rush of relief as she picked up the white iPhone 4 and realized the screen was still intact. She slid her finger across the screen, turned off the alarm and placed it on her docking station. Standing for the first time that morning, she rolled her shoulders back and clasped her hands together, resting them just under her butt and looked up at the ceiling She sighed and relaxed her position, then stumbled over to a box labeled "Summer's Spring Clothes", which her mom thought was such a clever label. Tearing away little bits of tape, Summer finally ripped open the box and pulled out the first thing she saw - a white sundress with pastel pink flowers scattered around it. Sliding off her pajamas - a long t-shirt, she pulled dress on over her head, mentally thanking herself for choosing one with enough padding that she didn't have to struggle with a bra. The dress seemed to blend with her alabaster skin, but she liked the way it fit on her hips. A warning bell sounded on her phone, and she felt a lump start to swell in her throat. Today would be the first day at a new school, with new people she could care less for and probably always would, in a new town that she saw had no point to existing. The nervous energy mixed with the frustration and stress made Summer break down in tears. She felt like she couldn't do it again, and since the divorce, she wouldn't have her dad to help her through. And then, almost like the forces of the universe were working in her power, her phone lit up with a text from her dad. "Goodmorning, my sunshine! Have a good day, and remember, keep smiling!". Taking it as an omen, she tried to continue with her morning process. She sat down in front of the mirror hanging on her door and pulled a shoe box out from under the bed. Out of it, she pulled a purple tube of mascara, a red can of dry shampoo and a small bottle of some off brand cheap liquid eyeliner. She tossed her head so that her short curls hung almost in front of her face, and sprayed away. After running a comb through it once, she flipped her head back and shook any extra loose, and scrunched it some with her hands. The loose brown ringlets sat right below her cheekbones. She painted a thin black line around her almond shaped eyes, making her green irises pop, then ran the mascara wand through her short lashes, trying to get the glamorous and elegant long eyelash effect. Returning all items to the shoe box, she bounced to her feet, and opened her pale blue door and tiptoed down the hallway, careful not to wake her mother and stepdad. Too nervous to eat, she bypassed the kitchen and went straight to her car, a black Ford Focus, and made her way to Bar Harbour Highschool.