“giselle? honey… wake up… wake up, giselle!” my mom was getting me up. ...crap.
my hand reached up and started poking what i assumed was her face. “where’s the snooze button on this thing?”
“nice to see you’re awake. now get up. it’s time for your first day at your new school! aren’t you excited?”
“oh, mom, i’m ecstatic beyond belief,” i responded as i sat up, a sacrastic edge to my raspy, early-morning voice.
“you better be nicer to your teachers, giselle,” she said.
trust me, mom. i will. detention isn’t exactly my favorite after-school activity. i got out of my bed after shooing my mother out from my room. i shut the newly-painted black door and looked at the dark purple (as in dark, almost night sky dark purple) walls and smiled because the ballerinas were finally gone! thank God. i washed my face, put on my usual thick black eyeliner, rearranged my short, bright pink hair, got dressed in truly depressing, dark clothes, put my trusty iPod in my bag, and walked out the door.

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