CHAPTER SEVEN

IVY

My alarm had gone off way too early. That clock was placed very far from the bed because I had a habit of smashing everyone of my alarm clocks out of anger. I was sure every breathing organism could relate to that.

Dragging myself out of bed was a whole event. I was still half asleep, barely awake, I couldn't even get my eyes to focus properly.

I tried standing up from the bed, at some point my leg got stuck in the blanket and I did this weird hop fall catch thing. Super graceful. Would’ve made a great blooper reel. And no one was even watching. I somehow managed to catch myself. Thank God.

I stretched my body, my bones made weird sounds I secretly loved. I moved across the full length dressing mirror in my room, habitually looking into the mirror, I drew back in shock at what was staring at me.

I legit almost screamed, took a full five seconds for my brain to be like, chill, that’s just your face. Hit myself a couple times on the forehead. Not hard. Just enough to knock some sense back in.

“For real though, what the heck is wrong with me?” I muttered to nobody.

I shamefully walked to the bathroom to shower before preparing for school.

I quickly put on my go to old hoodie that was like two sizes too big, it hid my small body and a threw on a pair of baggy jeans. My mom would probably groan if she saw me. As much as my mom wanted me to dress more girly and always insisted that I wear something more fitted to “show off my perfect figure.”

Like, Mom. No. Let me wear my blanket shaped clothing in peace.

I didn’t like attention. I preferred to blend into the background. I wasn’t one for attention. I so hated to be noticed.

I was shy, like, painfully shy, and no matter how many times people said I was pretty or whatever, I never knew what to do with them. Smile? Say thanks? Die a little inside? All of the above?

I just couldn't get myself to believe them. If anything, it made me even more self conscious.

I stood in front of the mirror for the second time that morning, I didn’t recoil back in disgust like I had earlier done, that meant there was hope for me.

My hands went to my long, natural straight hair which hung loosely around my shoulders. I quickly ran a brush through it. Honestly, shout out to my hair for being low maintenance, tangle-free and easy-to-manage, it was somehow always cooperative and didn’t need much work. I quickly brushed my hair and packed it up in a ponytail.

I stared at the mirror. My hazel eyes stared back at me, and honestly, they looked just as tired as I felt, probably worse.

I tried fixing my clothes, tugging at the sleeves and pulling at the collar of the shirt I wore underneath my sweater like that was going to magically make me look less like a zombie.

I checked myself again to make sure I looked… not homeless. I hated those creepy hallway stares, especially from weird boys who thought calling a girl fine was a personality trait.

I smiled a little, just to test the vibe. My smile came out more of a grimace, really. I had no idea why I bothered, my face just wasn’t cooperating today. I blinked, hoping to look more alive than I felt, but no, it didn’t work. Ugh, whatever.

My friends always said I was being modest and trying to downplay myself, but I sincerely couldn't see what they were seeing, clearly.

I love some aspect of my body features. My petite stature, my soft feminine curves, and dimples that always appeared whenever I smiled, I could see them popping out of both cheeks.

Sophia said I was voted prettiest girl in school once. Allegedly. I still think that was rigged. Or a prank.

She also said I could be popular if I actually, you know, talked to people. Not happening. No thanks. That wasn’t my style at all. I liked staying out of the spotlight, just blending in where no one paid much attention, to stay unnoticed.

Then someone knocked on my door.

‘Ivy, breakfast is ready,’my mom called.

‘Okay mom, I’m coming,’ I answered.

After barely managing to put on my jeans and few accessories, my boot in my hands, I rushed downstairs. I almost tripped on the last step because of the socks I had been wearing. My mom was already at the kitchen counter as usual, pouring coffee into a travel mug meant for my dad.

“Good morning mom. Good morning dad,” I greeted.

'Good morning, how was your night?', mom asked.

“Ugh….it was too. I feel like I barely slept at all,” I answered, frowning as I rubbed my eyes.

I flopped down on the kitchen seat, nearly missing it, I rested my head on the counter, my hair falling into my face. Great. I probably looked like a mess.

“You’ll be alright” she said. “Eat your breakfast you’re going to be late,” she said before giving me a plate of pancake and scrambled eggs, but I barely heard her, still half-dazed, my mind trying to catch up with my body. I was too tired to care.

I glanced at the wall clock and almost spat out the half chewed food in my mouth. It was past 8a.m. I hurriedly ate the pancake.

“Ivy!”mom shouted, shaking her spatula. “Sit down and eat your food like. Human, young lady.”

“I’m in a hurry mom,” i said, my mouth filled with food and my eyes on the clock.“School’s calling, you know.”

My dad scolded. "Listen to your mom, and eat gently. We don't want you choking on your food".

I hesitantly sat down and slowed the pace of my eating, My eyes still fixed on the clock.

'I'm going to be late', I groaned, with stuffed cheeks.

“You’ll be fine,” Mom said, adding extra layers of pancake, and eggs to my plate. “Now eat up, or you’re going to be even more late for school. And please stop running down the stairs. One day, you’re going to break something.”

“I know, I know,” Ivy groaned, I sat down and started stabbing at the food like they personally offended me.

My dad looked at me, amused. “Rough morning already?”

“Dad, you don’t even want to know,” I groaned. “I’m already stressed and it’s—” I looked at the clock. “Wait… what time is it? Like, seriously? It’s not even 9 a.m. and I’m already done with today.“

Mom came around the counter, she pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, and said, “You’ll survive. You always do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I rolled my eyes. I rushed my food and finished it off.

My dad jingled his car keys by the door. “Let’s go, Smalls. I’ve got to drop your mom off too, and I don’t want to hear either one of you complaining of running late.”

I groaned, grabbed my backpack and followed him to the car. He always called me “Smalls” because of how petite I felt standing next to his towering 6’1 height, I was more like my mom who stood at 5’3 feet.

I grumbled as I sat in the car. I hated how fast weekends disappeared, like they had barely started before they were over.

The drive to school was the same just like every other day. Mom in the front, me in the backseat. Dad always took me to school first before dropping my mom at her workplace, then finally go to his own workplace.

When we got to school, I climbed out of the car, mom blew me a kiss as always . I fist bumped dad, it was part of their daily routine.

“Have a good day at school, sweetie!”

I smiled, waving back. “Bye.”

I carried my backpack over one shoulder and walked towards the school’s entrance.

I didn’t know then, standing there, that that would be the last time I would see my parents again, the last normal morning of my life.