I'm Different Too

Chapter Three

My whole body sank towards the wooden floor. The tears that streamed down my face stung and seeped down into my pale flesh.

'Violet's right,' I thought to myself. ' I'm pathetic and weak... I am a Frankenstein...and most of all I'm imperfection.' A small sob escaped my quivering lips.

"Harley?"  a small voice called my name. I heard padded footsteps come towards my door. I hid my face and tried to wipe the tears from my eyes. I didn't want to let anyone see me in this situation. I kept quiet till the padded footsteps walked away into a different direction.

I quietly got up, and checked myself in the mirror, making sure that if anybody saw me they would not think I was crying. Everything looked good, except for my cheeks. My cheeks were blushed with a bright red.

'Might as well stay in your room if you don't want to cause any commotion.' I thought to myself. I looked around my room, then back at the mirror. 'Look at yourself, Harley. Your a mess.'

"No I'm not." I whispered to myself.

'Oh, yes you are. You look like your dog just died.' My conscience spoke back to me.

I rolled my eyes and headed towards the door, I had nothing else to do, especially now that I've broken my laptop.

'Fine, don't listen to me, but if you don't want people noticing that you've been crying, I suggest you get back in that room.'

I opened the door slightly, ignoring the warnings in my head. I popped my head out of the door, and looked both ways before stepping out of my room.

"I'll just say I was exercising in my room." I whispered to myself.

'Well good luck with that.' My conscience sassed back at me.

I huffed at myself and headed down the stairs. Every step I took made a creepy squeak on the staircase. It would make me shudder every time when I was younger, it still even does today. Back then, whenever I was trying to go to sleep, I would keep hearing creaks coming towards my room. Whenever I did, I would get completely horrified, and I would think that a lurking monster was out to get me. Once I told my mom about this problem, she would say that my prediction was correct, and that the monster was actually called the sleeping troll. My mother told me that the sleeping troll was a monster who would eat the children who did not go to bed after their bedtime. When I heard this, I was completely scared, and to prevent this from happening to me, I would go to bed at the exact time my mother told me to. I did this till my tenth birthday, when I got a new phone. I was bedazzled by its appearance, and when my mother told me to go to bed that night, I didn't want to. But I didn't directly tell her I didn't want to go to bed. Once I got up to my room, I layed down on my bed, and shut my eyes tightly, hoping that my mother and father would go to bed soon. After I heard the voices outside my door become quiet, I quickly got out my new phone and explored its new features and apps. It amazed me to the max, and when I finally looked up from the phone, I noticed that it was already morning. I was puzzled the whole day, until I finally figured out the truth when I was laying in bed that night. The sleeping troll was a myth my mother came up with so then I would go to bed at the exact time my mother told me to. I was a little shocked at the little act my mother was playing on me.  For five years I was terrified of the sleeping troll, and now I knew that it was all just a load of crap just to make me go directly to bed at my bedtime. Well played mother, well played.

I laughed at the little childhood memory as I headed towards the kitchen. The smell of  fresh cinnamon buns hit me instantly when I walked into the busy room.

Pots and pans were scattered everywhere on the kitchen counters, and white frosting was splattered in the most peculiar places of the kitchen.

"Mom?" I asked aloud as I heard someone rummage through some kitchen supplies.