Ch. 1: Afraid

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Afraid: The Neighbourhood

"When I wake up, I'm afraid somebody else might take my place."

You think you know what's going to happen in your life, and then he comes into it. And everything around you crashes and burns, but you still want him more than anything. Love and hate are so blurred, and yet I know exactly how I feel about him. I love him and I hate him.

The first sound I wake up to is birds chirping excessively. That was nearly two hours ago— and I'm still awake, looking straight up at the ceiling, dreading the day before it's even begun.

My alarm rings off at exactly seven am, and the nostalgic sound causes me to think about when my mother would poke in her head at six when I had zero period. I'm so glad that's not the case now.

School— or should I say the inevitable.

"Get up. Get up." I chant to myself inside my head.

I now wish my mother was intruding my room; her wet hair from her morning shower dampening the back of her neck.

It's one of those days where I don't want get up. My body feels like being engulfed into the comforter and sleep, but my mind stays awake from the protruding thoughts. I shake my head silently to myself, today will not be that day. I don't know why I get so anxious during the first week of school, but I do. The first day is always the worst, and each day it becomes less nerve racking. Day three... Not much better, but I got seven hours of sleep at least.

My phone rings off, signaling that my best friend is awake. I roll my eyes at the annoying sound, but reach over my side table to pick it up. I start, "Hello-"

"Good morning, Dawn Rivers!!" Lauren bellows into my phone causing me to pull away from the device.

"Does it have to be a good morning, can't it be a bad morning."

"Is it a bad morning for you?" Her voice much more softer, and I begin to tap my fingers in content. She knew how broody I can get.

"Nope." I say simply, not really wanting to elaborate on myself.

"Well then, it's going to be a good morning," She sounds so assure that it makes me feel like she's smiling.

"What about a swell morning?" I press as I bite my tongue to hold back my laughter.

She scoffs back, "Ha ha, you are always the complicated one in our friendship," she teases, but know there is some hidden truth to it but I won't dwell any longer, "Have you showered yet?"

"Do you mean have I even gotten out of bed yet," I stretch my limbs to release the pressure that was building

"Dawn," she whines, "Hurry up, we only have thirty minutes until we have to leave."

"By the time I'm out the shower, you'll still be putting on makeup." I yawn out as I finally make myself get up out of bed. This is why she calls me, mostly because I really have no energy to start the day . As I've grown into my senior year, it's safe to say life is hard. My toes touch my wooden floor, and I shiver at the coldness of it with the late summer weather.

"You're also the funny one in our friendship," she quips.

I walk to the vanity mirror, and look at my basic face. Bland. Incomplete. Boring. You name it, and that's me, "Well you're the pretty one." I pluck one of my blond locks between my fingers to pull the stringy curllike hair and untangle as best as I can with one hand; the other one occupied by my phone pressed to my ear.

"You'd be the pretty one, but you lack something."

"Enlighten me," I examine further into my face, and I feel like I'm invisible— well I am I suppose.

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