Undefeated (on hold)

Mirror Mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?

Brianna screamed.

Wolf.

I was a werewolf.

I woke up, startled by my dream. I had to take a minute just to process this. Was that true, that I am a werewolf? Who knows?

I threw the covers off of myself. Groaning, I made my way to my bathroom.

I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror.

Hideous.

My hair was practically a cat on top of me, I had old makeup smeared all over my face and arms from last night, and I looked awfully pale, for a Mexican American at least.

I looked at my feet in shame. Angry with the mirror, I punched it. I mean, everyone knows that only mirrors can tell the truth, they just don't break it to you easily.

My punch became a scratch quickly.

My long nails dug into the cool mineral. The errie sound could have been heard miles among miles away.

I cringed at the errie sound. Nails hitting chalk boards was what I thought of.

I smiled in achievement. I had won, I broke the truth.

The mirror shattered and feel to pieces at my feet.

Stumbling, and scraping, my parents ran into my room.

"What the hell was that, Castia?" My father's voice boomed threw out my bathroom.

"You scared us, Cast!" My mom said in a small, sleepy voice.

"Sorry." I said in a some what bitchy voice.

My eyes wandered to the broken mirror. My parents' eyes followed mine.

"Castia!" My mom said in a very stern voice.

"Yes mommy?" I tried to ask in an innocent voice. Epic fail.

"You know damn well 'what'!" My father yelled.

I rolled my eyes.

SMACK!

I took six or seven steps back, in shock, before I could regain my balance.

To this day, I still have no idea who smacked me. I keep going back from my mom when she's mad, but she wouldn't have the guts to smack me, unless she's like going-to-kill you mad. Or if it's my dad, he's smacked me before, but he wasn't at his smacking point.

"Get ready for school." My father said in a flat voice.

I could see small grey spots of grey in his black hair. His green eyes pierced threw me. His dark skin melted into love and hatred all at once. How could such a handsome man be so hard on you?

My mother had her apologetic face on. Big blue eyes filled with sorrow, her curly brown hair messed up, just made her look innocent. But just like a mirror, she holds the truth, but within that truth, there's always a lie.

I walked into my room. Closing the door, I let out a sigh of relief. My life is messed up.

I went into my walk in closet, and picked out a pair of purple (growing darker at my knees) caprice, a green and black zebra print tank top, no sleeves, knee high golden colored boots, and a small leather jacket with a purple collar.

I brushed my hair. Black was underneath, and brown was over. The curls swayed into my face a little pit.

Applying a bit of eyeliner, mascara, purple lipstick, and some blush, I left for school.