Sixty Seconds

I walked into the bathroom. The gleaming, pristine tiles always made my eyes hurt. They were just too white. I picked up my toothbrush and the toothpaste, Which in my opinion was too minty, the type of minty that feels like it's burning your tongue off. Deliberately spilling some on the sink I squeezed the toothpaste. My mum had to believe that I was going to bed, which I wasn't. I spat and rinsed. I looked round the bathroom looking for a towel. My eyes passed the jacuzzi bath and the massive shower with was usually freezing. There was none on the darker grey floor. The window was open, and I closed it.

'The only window open tonight will be mine' I told myself.

I spotted the towels on the rack. I reached for one of our amazingly soft white towels, my fingers found one and I pulled it towards me, drying my mouth. I looked quickly down to see if I had spilt anything on my top. A tight, black one, which I loved. The thick, almost jean, jeggings which were also black were also my favourites. My combat boots were very worn and fitted my feet perfectly. Looking into the mirror to see if there was any toothpaste still on my mouth, I noticed how pale I looked. Maybe, It was my hair, which, as usual was slightly curly and blacker than a ravens wing, I pulled it into a ponytail.. My eyes could contribute too, the almost black irises surrounded by eyelashes that most girls would kill for. Which in turn had black eyeliner and mascara on them, applied by my expert hand, it made my eyes seem bigger and blacker, which I loved. Or maybe it was the anticipation of what I was going to do.