I kept my eyes closed as I pulled off the covers. Another pointless day had arrived. Most of my day consists of bein' surrounded by idiots and fakes and I don't much care for those type of people. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes but kept them closed. I had already taken a shower the night before so I began puttin' my clothes on. I felt around in my top dresser drawer for my black sports bra and girl boxers. It wasn't hard to find them, seein' as everything I wear is basically the same thing and always in the same place. I put my under clothes on then opened the bottom drawer and pulled out black sweat-pants and a black sweat-shirt with the words "I don't converse with idiots so stop talking", in white letters, on the front. I pulled the sweat shirt over my head and slipped on the pants. Next were my trademark items. First was my black bandana. I felt around for the brush on my dresser and when I landed on it, I brushed down my Chinese bang and smoothed down the rest of my hair. Then I folded up my bandana into a head band and wrapped it around my hairline, making sure it was on top of my bang, and tied it in the back. I next put on my black winter skully and made sure my bandana could be seen in the front. Then my most well-known trademark: my black, darkly-tinted, shades. I slipped them on my face and opened my eyes. You are wonderin' why I just now opened my eyes. Truth is.... I hate my eye color, so I barely ever take my shades off. And don't ask why because I'll never tell. It has nothin' to do with my parents or bein' abused or any of that depressing bull. I'm probably the only student at West Monroe High School whose parents actually love me. So no, my utter hatred for my eye color has nothin' to do with my mom and pops. It might sound unusual but unusual comes with the territory when you dealin' with me. I mean, the way I dress should tell it all. I wear all black every day. I don't like bright colors and tight clothin' makes me sick. I'm not, in no way, shape or form, an emo or Goth, or punk. I'm just not the typical teenage girl. I pride myself on bein' different from the rest. I don't wear tight clothes, obsess over the hot guys at school, or wear a shit-load of makeup. I'm an extreme stickler for originality, somethin' that them bitches at school know nothin' about. Neither do the superficial, overly-conceited niggas. That's why I don't fuck with them or anybody else for that matter. In the dictionary, under the word "loner", is my picture. I keep to myself. I like my space. I don't have a million best friends because I don't want them. When you make friends, they tend to try and change you. I ain't down with that. I also don't like people in my business. What does my personal life have to do with anybody else? At school, I'm the girl who swims against the current. I'm the girl who stands out from the crowd. I'm also the girl that everybody knows not to mess with. They know to give me my space, don't talk to me, stare at me, ask me for a pencil, pick me as a project partner, sit at my lunch table, interact with me period. Consequently, this causes me to not have a boyfriend. I'm perfectly fine with that. I wouldn't dare date one of the brainless, superficial, dumbasses that go to my school. As you can tell, I hate school. Not because I have bad grades, which I don't, but because of the morons that crowd the hallways and fill the classrooms. I have total distain for my fellow student body as a whole. None of them are worth my time. They all pride themselves on bein' shallow and mentally dense. If it were my choice I wouldn't be goin' to school at all. I would just stay home and go to virtual high school. But my mom is determined to make me into a social butterfly. She always buys me girly, brightly colored clothes that she knows I'll never wear, and forces me to go to school functions like Homecoming, Prom, Spring Fling, etc. She just doesn't understand that I choose to be alone. But I don't hold it against her. She's always been the center of attention. Apart from the fact that she's terrifyingly friendly, she looks half her age. She's been mistaken for my sister plenty of times, even my twin a few times. At first it was awkward but now we just go along with it. But anyway, she has this skewed misconception that I need friends. Please. I'd have more fun talking to old men playing checkers in the park, than someone my age. At least they would have interesting war stories to tell and aren't worried about who's dating who and who has the best clothes or the most expensive ones. But as I said, I have no choice, so I'm forced to get up at 6 a.m. every weekday morning and go to a school full of imbeciles. I get straight A's but I don't do work at school. I collect all my classwork then take everything home and complete it and bring it back before school the next day. On Fridays I wait till Monday. My teachers don't mind that I don't do their work in class. They're just glad I do work at all because majority of their students never do theirs. Because of my exceptional grades, I get away with a lot of stuff, like my shades. I'm not really allowed to wear them but my grades let me get away with it. Sometimes the office lady has an attitude and decides to give me a detention when I'm late. Other than that, I stay out of trouble. I don't own a cellphone. I know, shocker. It's not that I'm not allowed; I just don't want one. Cellphones get people into too much drama. And I'm tired of people textin' each other when they could wait till they see each other or, if it's urgent enough, call each other. But anyways, I've told ya'll enough of my business so back to the story.