1 (Unfinished though)
I’m not saying my life’s been a holy hell, because in the grand scheme of things, I’ve hit a home run in the baseball field of lives. All I’m trying to say is that I hate myself. It’s not that I’ve done anything wrong or something like that, I just hate the way I turned out.
I'm always wrong. Not necessarily wrong as in academically wrong, just... Wrong. My hair's never right, and my face is too squarely rounded. When I look in the mirror, I don't see a person, nor myself, I see an ugly looking doll, to put it one way. Inhuman, almost. I hate it. And with my luck, it all got worse on January 3rd.
The day was merely just another Monday, just boring Monday stuff in Band. The class was loud with chatter about our upcoming trip to Hong Kong and the sounds of various instruments being played inappropriately as we packed up. Of course, I hadn't been paying much attention to what was actually going on. My brain was completely fried. When I'd walked in before class, I'd immediately been drawn towards the girl sitting in the back row with Amelia, whose fiery red hair had been pulled back into a ponytail that day. It was clear that the new girl was shadowing Amelia that day, and wasn't necessarily in that class, but the thought made my heart do little back flips. The only thing that was on my mind was that one girl. She wasn't really anything special to the average eye, I guess. She was averagely tall, but the two main things that struck me were her hair, and her socks.
Her hair was...Amazing, I guess. It fluffed out in tiny, intricate, light brown curls that stopped a few centimeters above her shoulders. It was styled as if she hadn't had that much time to get ready that day, which made me laugh a bit. Though, a part of me really wanted to stroke it. (I'm weird, okay?)
What really made me interested was her choice of clothing, especially socks. She was clad in a dark green jacket, well worn, and some ripped jean capris. The girl's socks were fabulous, though. Bacon socks. Right? I was totally jealous.
I shoved my instrument into my locker and quickly walked towards her as the bell for dismissal rang. I caught her right as she walked out the door. I slowed my pace to walk next to her.
"Um, hi," I said, an embarrassed mess. "What instrument do you play?" Yep. I didn't even ask her name. I'm a complete and utter nerd.
Her face kind of got scrunched up in confusion for a split second, but it immediately softened as she answered. "I play saxophone, but I'm not in band this year." Of course. Right. It was the middle of the year anyways.
"Oh, right," I reply dumbly. "Um, well, I'm Tristan. What's your name?" We walked past the gym, people pouring out in front of us into the hallway.
She brushed her hair behind one ear. I noticed her sweep me up and down, most likely confused about my name compared to appearance. "Anna. I'm Anna."
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