I am a daydreamer. Not just the normal kind, but the kind that gets people on the bus looking at me weirdly because I just totally made a weird face while I was in my fantasy.
Great. I literally, just got my period. Maybe you didn't want to know that, but it's an absolute legitimate fact. Now you know for sure, that I'm a female.
Anyways, daydreams. My daydreams always involve guys. Men. Whatever you like to call them. I see you guys are getting the idea.
Let me just grab this pin over here, and POP! burst that bubble right there.
Unlike normal girls, I don't daydream about romantic guys sweeping me off of my feet and taking me on a candlelight dinner. No. For some reason, I always daydream about fighting with a guy.
Not like verbally fighting, but like kick ass fighting.
I love my action movies.
I love martial arts too.
I don't do anything even remotely close, but action scenes, give me what I can only describe as a sense of BADASS.
I want to be that badass. I know I'll never be that badass, so I daydream that I am that badass instead.
All kinds of weird daydreams. Sometimes I'm a superhero. Sometimes, my school becomes under attack and I save the day. Sometimes, my best friend is in trouble and I save her.
Left hook, upper cut. Flying butterfly kick. Duck left. A couple of backflips. You know, the realistic stuff that any non-athletic human can do.
Once, the it was a normal college day and then BAM, shit starts going down. We hear shooting, and screams and immediately, I'm in ninja mode.
"Everybody get down!" I scream, but I'm only a small girl so they look at me weirdly. "Get the fuck down!" I scream, a new kind of power radiating through my eyes. They drop under the tables and just in time because we hear bullets whizzing through glass.
I'm on the floor immediately, and heading towards the door. I plaster myself against the wall, right next to the door. As expected, the door flies open and a man with an unnecessarily large gun rages in, slamming the door behind him. He doesn't even notice my small figure right beside him. As soon as the door is shut, I attack.
Moving smoothly, I disarm him, kicking his knee. In a moment, I have his gun. I push him against the wall, my arm against his throat. Of course, I possess extreme strength which is completely unrealistic to my size.
"How many of you people are there?" I ask him quietly, staring him dead in the eye.
He's fearful, but he doesn't speak. I step back before pointing the gun at him. I'm holding it with an ease that he recognises. More fear in his eyes. I hear my classmates gasp, and I imagine that I look like a total badass because conveniently enough, today is a sports uniform day and hence, I am not holding a gun in a green skirt and a blue blouse.
"S-seven." He stutters. Seven. They probably expected to hold the school hostage. I nod before slamming my gun against his head. He's knocked out cold.
I turn to the people that I attend class with each day.
"Anyone who can fight...Sit your ass, the fuck down. All the guys in the room, don't even think about moving your macho man selves. Stay low, and don't move. I'll take care of this. If this guy wakes up, sit on him or something." I nod towards the unconscious man. I hold the gun against my body, and slip out the door.
And you know, the same result. By the end of the day, I've flown over roofs, fought dramatically, had a dramatic bullet wound and said some pretty dramatic dialogues. All in all, I've saved the day with my kickass fighting skills.
Go ahead, laugh at me.
Really, what happens as we grow older is that we get punched in the face by this thing called reality which kind of bashes the dreams out of you. Yeah, it's a cold, harsh, thing and I'll admit, it has yet to punch me in the face. I've yet to have any major heartbreaks, and I'm talking about any kind. My family is alive, people haven't often betrayed me and I don't remember ever being so hurt that I wanted to die. But I've experienced my fair share of smacks of reality. Gentle smacks, ya know.
And each time, it stops you from dreaming big, but what I can keep is my imagination. What I can do, is look out the window on the bus each day, put in some earphones, play a badass song and imagine that I'm a secret ninja just for the 20 minute bus ride. It makes me a little happier, so you try it too.
Mistake Number 3: You forget to imagine what you probably can't...won't...be.
Correction Method: Listen to some music, and imagine something.
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You Can't Read This.Teen Fiction
If you're here, then you're reading this. Mistake number one: You clicked on this despite reading the title. I was testing you on a phenomenon called reverse psychology. Look it up sometime, when you have time. Why? Because I felt like it. Just che...