My Last Three Years (Finished)

Chapter 1

"Violet!"
"Mmmmhhhh???"
"Wake up sweetie. It's time for school." Mom said while trying to shake me awake. "It's Friday!"
"Mmmmmhhhh." I roll over and cover my face with a pillow.
"Violet if you don't get up and start getting ready now you'll be late. C'mon, your a freshman now. Last warning." Mom walked out of my room and shut the door. I took the pillow off my face and looked around my purple room. I looked at the Windows, with the black out shades that are hanging up. Then at the black, shiny, desk in the corner. I sat up and looked at my bookshelf, half empty. After school I'm supposed to be shopping with my friends for more books and clothes. I get off my black water bed and fold my blue and turquoise sheets back so it looks nice and neat. All of a sudden my lungs start to burn and I start coughing really bad. It feels like I'm gonna throw up. I ignore it, remembering I'm going to be late.
I slide on my slippers and walk over to my walk in closet. I look around at what I should wear. I glance in the mirror and realize I need to take a shower. My hair is all greasy, and my makeup is all smudged. I walk out of my closet, shut the door, and walk over to my bathroom. I open the door and walk to the shower. I twist the knob to "on" and "hot" then I turn on the fan and then lights and wait for it to heat up.

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I step out of the shower and brush my thick, brown and blonde ombré hair. I look into my hazel eyes, I pick up my black eye liner pencil and draw a thin line along my eye lids. Then I open my eyes and do the same to the bottom. I pick up my black mascara and slowly brush my lashes. When I'm done, I look at myself in the mirror. "Perfect" I quietly say to myself. I've never really liked much makeup. I'm a tomboy, I have 2 brothers. One is older then me, he's graduating high school next year. The other is only 5. I also have 2 sisters. I have one who's a year older then me, at 16 years old. And a younger one. She's 7. My mom is awesome. Besides the fact that she refuses to divorce my father. He's a drunk bastard. Ever since my youngest brother was born, he couldn't stop drinking. Moms been working nonstop.
And me, I'm 15. My name is Violet Briarcliff. It's Friday here in LA, California. And my 5th week as a freshman.
I walk into my closet and look at what I have. Most of it is black. I pick up my dark purple beanie and put it on my head. I fix my nose ring so it's not crooked then pick a black pair of sweatpants to go with my white and black T-Shirt. I take my black High-tops and slip them on. I grab my backpack and slide it over my shoulder.
After closing my closet door, I shut the light in my room and run down the stairs to be kitchen. When I reach the bottom, I have another horrible coughing spell. I ignore it, not thinking anything of it and grab a pop tart out of the pantry then kiss my mom on the cheek.
"Bye Ma, love you. Have a good day."
"You too." She says. She's hands me a brown paper bag that says my name on it. "I made you a special lunch! I also made a doctor appointment for after school for you. You've been coughing so much."
"What!? No!! You have to reschedule! I'm going to the mall with my friends! Remember?!"
"Ugh, shit. I forgot. I'm sorry. How about Monday? You have off for Columbus Day. Will that work?"
"Sure Ma. I gotta go. I'm gonna miss the bus. Bye."
"Bye. Love you."
I run out the door and to the bus stop. I cough like 17 times along the way but I ignore the burning in my lungs. By the time I get there I'm completely out of breath. I stand there for a second before catching my breath.