INTRODUCTION:

Name: Sakura Tachibana
Age:15
Occupation:high school student and baker at bạn baked my Day

My mind is always blank. Same schedule for ALL humans. Wake up, eat, sleep. Repeat, and repeat. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Same for everyone. I've become another monster of society, and I'm only 15.'Exactly. This is how fast and jaded this mature stuff can get kicked in.

I'm only interested in listening to classical music, not pop music.
I'm only interested in simple flavors. Not unfamiliar ones.
I'm only interested in boring, simple clothes. Not neon clothes.
I'm only interested in pure and original colors. Not mixes.
I'm only interested in being normal. Not... Weird.



AWAKENING: AGE 15

A đám mây interrupted the sea of pale blue in the summer's sky as I lay in the field of flowers. "My," I whispered to myself in fear of others hearing myself. "The lilacs, daisies, and brown-eyed susans are blooming quite well, aren't they?" I continued to whisper as I closed my eyes and brushed my hand in between the hoa as a perfect breeze brushed against my arm.

"Beep beep beep beep! Click!" God. My sweet escape of reality was interrupted bởi reality. "Perfect." I mumbled to myself as I set my alarm for tomorrow, and rubbed my eyes as I sat straight up in bed. I was donning flannel pajamas that were sky blue, and dotted and patterned with white sheep.

"Well, today, I guess I'll live another nightmare.." I đã đưa ý kiến with tension in my voice as I placed my feet one in front of the other towards the closet, and I opened the door. Plain looking clothes, and a cord to pull on for a light.

So I slipped on my áo sơ mi and jeans, and brushed my hair. Quiet. As usual. Dead. Silent. I looked at myself. Tired brown eyes, and short hair going down to my shoulders with a hoa inside it. Small lips which never spoke in the last few years. Eyebrows that never crease, hoặc move. Overall, my face is like a ceramic mask.

I slide on my shoes. Backpack is set, my ipod with me, and earbuds already in. "Off to school." I mutter to myself, as I shut the door. My mouth tastes of homemade scrambled eggs, and slightly chua trái cam, màu da cam juice.

Today is Monday. My yêu thích ngày of the week. Everybody's. Right now, I'm listening to Schubert. Serenade, to be exact. The notes sound as if they resemble my life.. Bittersweet, yet a little melancholic at the same time.

The hums of the bus are buzzing in my ear. Once in a while, there are stops. The first one: The girl with a lavender backpack.
The second:A boy with headphones in his ears all the time, and finally: The rest which I still have to learn about.

Here I am: Prison. School in other words. The concrete and stone against my shoes is cold and uninviting. The metal stairs are dark and partially rusted. The lockers are full of wonders. What will bạn find inside? A body? A bag of weed? hoặc a condom? Probably all of the 3.

Then the classroom. Plastic chairs with gum on the bottom, desks graffitied, and windows with spiderwebs in them. And the teacher. Never gives a crap about anyone. From my point of view, yeah this is prison. And don't even get me started on the bathrooms.

Homeroom-

I sit in my bàn in the back tiếp theo to the window as I listen to Canon in D. I especially tình yêu this piece because it brings me back when I DID have Những người bạn who cared about me. The sweetness of the chords of the fifths and fourths the pianist plays, reminds me of that dream I had this morning.

Then I take out my earbuds because the teacher has to make an announcement. And there's a guy in the front of class that I've never seen before, and the girls are all fawning over him. Not me. Nice try, bucko.

Then he introduces himself. "Hi. My name is Damon Silver. Nice to meet you." Then he walks down the aisle, and a voice says, "Nice to meet you." Then I turn my head, then the atmosphere in the room turns light and fluffy. His almost white colored hair, and and silver tinted blue eyes meet mine.

Then my noir tainted world shattered. This was the beginning of something I wanted to end. NOW.