"Y/n, get up!" You try to, but your best freind, the bed, doesn't want you to leave, so you slump back down in defeat.
Your mother thumps up the stairs, "What did I tell you, young lady, you're going to be late for school!"
You uncover the blanket from your face and turn to her with a scrunched up face, "What time is it?"
"5:50 am, missy," Your mother arches her eyebrow with some noticeable sass.
"Ah, shit." You scramble out of bed as your mother yells at you for using such vulgar language.
The bus is supposed to arrive around 6:30, but each and every time, it manages to arrive about 15-20 minutes early each day. That leaves you, roughly, with about 25 minutes to do your skincare, makeup, get dressed, and head out the door before you have to hail a cab, or even worse, ask your step-mother to drive you.
Luckily, you rely on a simple skincare routine as well as natural makeup. You head out the door at 6:11 wearing this:
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(The makeup)
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(Remember to love yourselves, y'all some beautiful people~ ^this photo is just a reference for the outfit)
As you run out the door you see the bus pulling up to your house with a squeak. You enter the yellow tube tiredly, not wanting to be on it as the kids scream in the back.
Unexpectedly, the rowdy teenagers in the back are rather quiet today. Thank god. You release a sigh.
"Hey, Y/n," A boy says rather cockily.
"Hey, Bogumie," You sit next to him.
"You look tired today," He presses his hand against your forehead, "Are you sure you're okay?" You nod.
This week has been taxing. Your mother never missed a chance to yell at you, your father didn't show up because he was "too afraid" to confront his wife about child abuse. He's always been there for you, but now it seems as if he doesn't care about the pain you face on a regular basis. He's too cowardly, but you can't stop loving him. He's your father afterall.
