Ain't Your Regular Girlfriend

I kept on struggling with my messy hair. I've been standing in this mirror for like ages trying to style my hair like Magritte normally does. How am I gonna style this now ?". I groan stretching out my hands that hurt now.

Even to tie this hair into bun seems like war with myself, I shouldn't have told Magritte to take the day off!... If not she would have been the one to style this hair." Fuck!". I yell and push the mirror making it fall and shatter to pieces on the floor.

"Ugh! Who's gonna clean this mess now!". I yell and fall on my big bed. I can yell as much as I want in this big house, now that I'm home alone. Dad is at work...prolly told Daddy that a friend is visiting the house and Magritte must be on the plane to Chicago.

Clara is prolly missing me now... She thought I was kidding when I said I ain't going to school today because I'm expecting an asshole as a visitor.

I should clean this mess and tidy my room... I smile at the mischief I planned on doing today. I rush to the kitchen and grab a broom to sweep the broken mirror off my pretty floor. The floor I decorated on the day we moved in.