August 27, 2011
By XxGrayEyesxX SILVER, Acworth, Georgia
XxGrayEyesxX SILVER, Acworth, Georgia
6 articles 0 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
~I wish i could write as mysterious as a cat
~Sing, Dance, Wear Red Lipstick
~Those that care don't matter, and those that matter don't care
~Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
and then is he
~Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come

I'll admit it, I miss school. I miss the way my alarm would wake me up, whether it was the Black Veil Brides, Skillet, or Good Charlotte, the pulsing beats would wake me up just as the sun peeked over the woods behind my house and set my room ablaze is a golden glow. I miss the way the smell of fresh coffee would pull me out of bed, and down the stairs to see my mom in her scarlet bath robe with a Goofy coffee cup clutched in her right hand. The way I would open my windows, and the cool breeze would dance across my skin. The way my cat would curl herself around my feet as I put on my make up and attempted to tame the billowing curls that ended at my waist.
I would always wait until 7:30 to unlock my front door, and then not five minutes later, my friends would be walking down the hall to my room. The way my lavender plant would send sweet wisps of air into my room through the open balcony door. The way the burgundy tulips would shimmer with fresh dew drops as they danced on the morning wind, but we all grow up.
Now I still wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring out music, I still smell coffee wafting down the hall that pulls me out from my comforter. Now, instead of walking across warm carpet, my feet are shocked with icy wood. I still open the windows to let in that crisp autumn breeze, I still walk down the stairs, and get ready with my cat curling around my ankles.
I still meet someone in the kitchen, but it's not my mom. I feel like I've known them my entire life, and yet I'm still learning about them everyday. I walk over and kiss them on the cheek and they always pull me into a hug. The sound of slow footsteps are heard above the kitchen and I pull away to grab my coffee. The ceramic mug shaped like the Cheshire cat. The footsteps are heard on the stairs and soon, they are in the kitchen right behind me. My scarlet robe sways as I turn around, my billowing curls bouncing against my back.
The girl in front of me looks just like me, but years younger. She smiles and takes a coffee cup from the cabinet, and before they retreat upstairs I hear them mumble, “Morning, mom.”

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