We Villains Love Too

Six: Villains Get Punk'd Too

6

You know that feeling you get when you’re lying comfortably underneath your fluffy bed sheets and you roll and roll and just feel the cotton rub against your skin, but then, something like a deranged alarm clock beeps right beside your fragile ears?

          Well, I do because this is what’s happening to me right now.

          I stuff my ears with my extra pillow, but the sound is too powerful that I can still hear it through the material. I highly regret that I got myself another alarm clock in replace for the other one I destroyed. And I swear to God, I definitely would do it again to this alarm clock if it doesn’t stop. Annoyed, I extend my arm to my side table and hit the stop button down. Maybe my alarm clock sensed the sincerity in my thought when I threw that threat, because it stops ringing right after I pushed the stop button. I’ve got myself a very good one, indeed. Slowly, I open my eyes and voila, the same sight appears: the dark room with the same green lava lamp on my closet—perfect.

          It is another day of being a boring villain, I thought to myself as I sigh deeply. I slip my fingers under my pillow, taking my phone out.  I click the lock button and the numbers 7:06 A.M. flashes on the screen, and above it, says it’s the sixteenth of September 2012, and that today is Monday.

         That’s the only time I realize I’m late…

          …for school.

          “Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.” I say to myself as a mantra, my eyes like a deranged robot’s, keep on rolling left to right.

         I throw my blanket away and slip my feet on the floor. Of course I’m in panic, who the fuck wouldn’t be in a panic mode on a situation like this? I take out my towel from the closet, almost toppling over something with every step I take. Now I kind of regret that I refused to put a decent window in my room. Mentally cursing the only useless window I have in my room, I head on the door to open the light switch, and it illuminates the whole room, so I sigh in relief. I run to my shower room and start to take a bath. I flinch at the first drops because the water is stinging hot, causing the bathroom mirrors to moist, but then I’ll get eventually used to this. The rest is history.

          Right after, I quickly dress in my typical outfit: Gray t-shirt, black leather jacket, and good old black jeans. I face the mirror, and looking at myself through the moist that has covered almost half of the surface has never been this horrendous. I look like helpless little kid with my ash brown hair drenched in water. I don’t know why, but I have never noticed my eyes were hazel. Maybe they change, but I really don’t know.  My eyebrows look bushy, yet still in place. My nose looks a little bit pointy, with slight freckles across the bridge. And yes, my favorite, my cleft chin looks all the same. Same good, same good.

         Now that it seems like I’m over patronizing my face, I style my hair and go out. I rush downstairs, taking three flights at a time, almost like I’m teleporting. I take a stop on the last step, holding on to the stair’s rods, panting.

          “What’s the problem? You look like…” Tiara scans me up and down, sitting with her legs crossed on a beanbag, a mug on her hand. “You’ve only got a minute to save yourself.”

          I look back at her from head to toe. She looks so... Chill. “Aren’t we late for school?”

          She doesn’t say a response and just stares at me, and then she chuckles and takes a sip on her hot chocolate. “It’s Sunday.”

          My heart skips a beat for a moment, thinking about how McKyla said yesterday that I should sleep because I have school to attend today.  And my alarm clock said it’s seven o’ nine and it’s Monday - it couldn’t be wrong.