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xxɌҽɗ ɣ βʅɑϲқxx
Let's see, where should I start? There's so many things to tell you, so many ways to tell it. How bout we start 5 days before it actually started? Sounds like a plan.
First off, let's get with some introductions. My name's Mia Ferman. I'm 16 years old. But I was at the ripe age of 14 when everything went into utter chaos.
Well, for my friends and I, anyway.
I have maroon colored hair. It's perfectly straight, and no, I don't straighten my hair. It stops three inches from my shoulder. My bangs go to the very tip of my eyes and comb off slightly to the left. I basically look like I walked out of a beauty salon, every day.
My eyes are maroon. Or I guess, dark red. Some people say maroon, some people say dark red. I just say un-natural freak eyes. But, they are natural. Not sure how I got them. No one in my family has red eyes. It's odd. But, oh well. I get made fun of it sometimes.
Okay, a lot.
But, it's not my fault. But, I must say, I look almost exactly like my mother. Besides the eye thing. She has brown eyes. I guess the only thing I got from my dad was his perfectly straight teeth.
I'm super athletic, so my figure's pretty good. But I have to watch what I eat, cause I don't have the best matabalism in the world. I'm not miss princess perfect or anything. Unlike all the girls in stories now-a-days that have perfect faces, perfect bodies, perfect --SHUT UP!
Sorry
But, those are all make-believe. Fiction. NOT. REAL. No girl is that perfect. If she is, she just wears maybelline.
I'm getting off track. Excuse me, I have some-sort of ADD.
It was the first day of June. School had been out for about two and a half weeks. Unlike most of my class, I would be going somewhere for the month of June. My friend Layla invited me and my other friends, Jake and Zack, to her aunt's cabin for a month. I didn't catch the name of it, or where it was. I was to excited to care. But my guess it was somewhere in the Omaha region.
I lived in Papillion, Nebraska. Right on the edge, right by Omaha. Her aunt owned a cabin in a camp ground somewhere around that region. I don't know.
Oh well. Doesn't matter anyway.
I lie lifeless in my bed. I was already used to staying up late and sleeping in. If you count waking up at ten A.M sleeping in. Then I guess I was pro at it. I got the energy to rub my eyes and sit up. I swung my legs over my bed and stood up. I clenched my hands into fists and brought them to my face, making a slight turn and stretching.
I slipped on some jeans with gaping holes in the knees, and a Pink Floyd T-shirt. Yeah, my fashion sense was pretty boss.
After brushing my hair and teeth, I stomped down the stairs to the living room / kitchen / dinning room. Yes, they were all together. No walls closing them off. Right from the stairs I guess, is where you could call the "border" between the kitchen / dinning room and the living room. To your right, you have the living room. To your left, you have on one side, the kitchen, and on the other you have the dinning room. Well, if you call a round oak wood table and three chairs and a high chari a dinning room, anyway.
The house was completly quiet. My parents worked early in the morning, but my dad was the one who worked till 7 o'clock at night. My mom got home around three-ish. My two year old brother was at my aunt's house, since my parents knew I would be sleeping in. Ha, funny story on how they decided me not to baby sit him.
Well, funny to me, anyway.
Let's just say, I had slept till one in the afternoon when he was just a year old. He had some how crawled out of his crib, rode a pillow down the stairs, gotten into the bottem cabinate that had that fancy spinning thing in it, taken out the peanut butter, and gotten the wonderful stuff all over the couch and rug. Guess who had to clean up the lovely mess? Your's truly, sleeping beauty.
Here's a tip: If you have a ninja one year old, don't put the peanut butter in arms length of that ninja one year old.
Yeah, your welcome.
 iFullmetal_Freak · Tue Mar 23, 2010 @ 04:01am · 1 Comments |
