Grace Gresley is a 17 year old girl in her last year of school. She is reserved, quiet, and kind. She doesn't like socialising with new people and prefers to keep her life peaceful. Is careful and doesn't like risky situations.
Grace's life has been...
I groan as I sit up in bed and turn off the alarm. Sunrays are coming through the slightly opened blinds, radiating my luscious blonde hair.
I pick up my phone and take a quick look to see if I have any notifications. Of course not. Just the typical Pinterest notification. Seriously, what am I expecting? My life is literally quieter than a mouse.
Quickly, I hop off the bed and make my way to the bathroom. I have a nice shower and brush my teeth. I take my time getting ready since I woke up earlier. I move back to my bedroom and pick out an outfit.
I decided on wearing something simple. A navy top with wide blue jeans and white Converse. I also put on my silver necklace with a butterfly that my mom gave me.
The outfit:
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I make my way downstairs and make myself a simple breakfast. A sandwich with butter, ham, and lettuce. I would have also put cucumber, but there wasn't any left.
I devour it in seconds because I don't have much time. It seems that I spent almost all my time getting ready.
After washing the dishes, I quickly ran upstairs and grabbed my backpack. I went back downstairs and accidentally bumped into my dad, resulting in him spilling his coffee all over himself.
Oh, dear God. "Dad, I'm really sorry. Please, forgive me," I pleaded. "I'll buy you a new shirt, Dad, please."
He turned around and looked down at me. He put his mug down on the counter and slapped me across the face.
"You can't just buy me another shirt! This shirt was gifted to me by your mom. And now it's ruined!" He shouted at me.
"Please, dad, I'm sorry. I'll wash the stain out." I stated. "I promise, dad, I'll wash it out." I could feel my eyes begin to water.
He groaned and slapped me again. This time with much more force. "Gosh, you're so annoying. No wonder mom left us. It's all your fault!" What. No, it's not my fault she left us. No, no way. He's just saying that because he's angry.
I could feel my eyes watering even more. I tried so hard not to cry. I hate crying. With my whole heart. It's truly so humiliating.
"Jesus, just get the fuck out of my face. You're good for nothing!" I wiped my tears that were about to roll down my cheeks and left the house.
...
I arrived at school 20 minutes late. I went and picked up my timetable. Great! Just great! I have English first. I hate English. I write beautifully, but I'm just not into writing.
