"Maya, wake up," I groaned, and turn over in my bed, the clock blinked and repeated it usual saying “Maya, wake up,” over, and over again, I let a breath and groggily got up of bed. I felt for my phone in my pocket, and took it out. The lock screen time read, 7:15, shoot. I had 15 more minutes. I take a quick glance around my room, my room was an odd shape, it was a circular rectangular kind of shape. My deep purple walls, my simple blue computer desk, and my small twin bed look all just as I left it. I exhaled loudly, and I stumped down onto my bed. School, I quickly bounce off my bed, and swung open my closet, revealing my huge wardrobe of clothes. I grinned, and scan through my closet to find something decent, enough. I don’t have to try to impress anyone, But looking good is my specialty. After about 5 minutes, I settle on tight jeggings, with a black cropped shirt revealing my newly pierce belly ring, with the words Dream On, printed in gold. I sprinted over to my mirror to inspect my clothing, I posed a little, and applied a thin layer of makeup on to my dark tan face, my hair was messy and I sure did not have the time to straighten it, I decide on a messy bun. I hurried down the stairs. I didn’t have time to make anything, and boy was I hungry. I roughly stuff my phone into the back pocket of my jeggings, grab my leather jacket, and got my keys from made way to the door.

“I hope you’re not, planning going to school with those on her feet” I heard my mother tease from behind me. I looked down at my feet I wore my pink bedtime slippers I ignored her. My mom and I don’t have the typical mother, and daughter relationship, that we should have. We always fight, and sometimes it gets physical.

I quickly scan the house, to find my black sneaker wedges to wear, which were stuff firmly under the living room couch.

“There you are,” I whispered to my two precious pairs of shoes.

“Bye sweetie. I love you.” I heard my mom said as I closed my car door. Fuck you, mom. I wasn’t going to let her ruin my day. It wasn’t always like this, ever since dad died. Mom hasn’t been herself, she’s been sleeping around, and I swear I saw her smoking something. I always blamed mom for the death of my dad, if she hadn’t been so damn greedy. Dad would have still been here. He died in a car accident, Dad was coming home from the grocery, and mom called dad asking him if he could pick up some more of those nasty mini burger things. He said he was right around the corner, but he could pick them up tomorrow. No, mom wasn’t happy with that she insisted that she wanted them then. Of course, dad couldn’t argue with that, he turned back to go the grocery where this dumbass ran the red light, and hit my dad’s car which made the car flip over. It was a sad time, and it was all that bitch fault.