Wish Upon a Killer Star

A Day in the Life

I always dreamt of meeting my favorite characters from the many books that I’ve read or have the ability to go into the different worlds of the stories and animes and become a part of each one.  The list was really long for characters I loved, but I wasn’t expecting to wake up one day and find about ten of them in my living room. I guess some wishes can come true.

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 The alarm clock screamed loudly and rattled me out of my sleep and forced me out of my bed. Nearly tripping over a pile of clean clothes that I have yet to put away I smack my hand down on the snooze button and flick the alarm switch off. Groggily I step out of my bedroom, stopping to admire the many posters of animes and books spread across my blush lavender walls. The posters mainly consist of Hitman Reborn, the anime, but there were a few drawings I had done of books that I had taped to the walls.

The bathroom that’s right next to my room is irritably small, every morning I stumble in there and look at myself to see my brownish-red hair tousled and going every which way. The hair was always accompanied with tried honey colored eyes that would soon be framed by black rimmed glasses. On the days showers are possible stepping into it was like stepping into a freaken boiler, so a quick wash of my short, and usually spiky hair and a brush of my teeth was all that was necessary, then I was heading back to my room with puffs of steam billowing behind me in my wake. With the towel wrapped under my arms I stepped into my semi-walk-in closet and shifted through the many t-shirts that had been picked from the boys section of Walmart rather than the girls section. Settling on the Reese’s shirt I finished dressing and went back to the mirror to brush my hair and try and flatten down the wild mess of hair that would never let anything be done to it. After several minutes of messing around with my hair I glanced into my room at the clock, it read 6:45. Damn. I was going to be late for the bus if I didn’t hurry.

“Stupid hair.” I muttered to myself and reached for my back pack, hauling it over my shoulder then proceeding to the stair case and yelling up it at my mother, who was also getting ready to leave for work. “MOM! I’m going out to the bus now!” I heard some clanking around and then she came to the top of the stairs and waved me a goodbye.

“Alright sweaty, have fun at school.” She hollered back in her semi-dressy clothes and curled brown hair. Everybody told us we looked exactly alike, it’s true, it even gets creepy sometimes. Groaning at the idea of school I left out the back door and headed for the bus stop, already wishing school was over. I pulled up the hood of my jacket quickly as the rain and cold wind hit me, guess that’s what you get for living in Washington, home of the rain and freezing wind. The bus pulled up several minuets after my arrival, climbing on to the bus I discovered all of the seats were already filled so I was stuck with shoving myself into a seat with two people in it already.

My friends would probably say I was a crazy, weird person, loud, but kind, if not a bit tom-boyish. That’s when I’m with my friends or when I just have a spur of the moment craziness. When I’m alone I tend to be quiet and drawn, I retreat often to books or my own imaginative mind, sometimes I wind up drifting down to thoughts of what life is, what happened to make humans, what happened to cause us to feel so much threat towards each other and make war on our own spices. Most teens don’t think about that kind of stuff, I guess that’s why I chalk myself up to be such a strange person. Whenever I get my nose in a book I start to think of what it would be like if I was in the story or if I could meet all those different people. Oh, it would be amazing if I could meet them…only hopes and dreams though. After breakfast in the school cafeteria I headed down to the meeting spot where my friend and I usually meet up in the mornings. First I notice Ashton and Shannon standing by the library and walk up to them.

“Hellooo.” I draw out the vowels and say it in an attempted accent to Ashton then turn to Shannon and nudge her with my elbow. “Heyyy.” Ashton’s reply is the same type of hello but with his rather deep voice and British accent that he falls into sometimes. His spiky-ish hair is splayed out all over his forehead and I see that he’s wearing his usual black coat and red flannel. When I stand next to him I look like a midget, he’s always towering over me.